


The Dreams We Carry

by Ms_Ingno



Category: Doki Doki Literature Club! (Visual Novel), Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Girls, And if you're in the PMMM section then.... you also know what this is, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Depression, F/F, Female Protagonist, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Listen -- If you're in the DDLC section you know what this is, Suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-23 00:25:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 50,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14320392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ms_Ingno/pseuds/Ms_Ingno
Summary: [FemC] [Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magica!AU]I’ll reset again, Monika thought. I’ll do it as many times as I have to. I’ll kill them again and again and again, Tomi……as long as it means we can be together at the end of it all.





	1. I Think I Made You Up

**The Dreams We Carry**  
  
_Doki Doki Literature Club: Madoka Magica!AU_

Disclaimer: Neither DDLC nor PMMM are my property. This story uses elements of both series. Trigger warnings for depression, suicide, self-harm, and character death.

 

* * *

 

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed  
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.  
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

 

\--Sylvia Plath, “Mad Girl’s Love Song”

* * *

 

Shadows moved alongside me as I made my way through the empty streets of a burning city. Ash danced around me; a flake even touched my cheek. I could feel it, a tiny pressurized spot of heat. The air was acrid, heavy. I tried to breathe through my mouth, but it was no use; it was like breathing poison.

 

Strangely, panic eluded me. I recognized the buildings as the ones in my own city; the bridge I crossed every day to get to school had collapsed in a fierce blaze. The sidewalks were filled with faceless bodies, people crying and cursing the destruction.

 

Even from my point on the ground, I could feel the kiss of the flames. I needed to hide—instinct took over, and I broke into a run. My uniform skirt flapped around my thighs.

 

Finally, I came to an alley, studded with trash. The bricks wouldn’t burn, right? But I couldn’t see the end of it, and it scared me. A dead end.

 

Static cracked in my ears. And a voice. A laugh. My eyes focused in the dark. Sure enough, there was someone there, crouched in the filth. A girl, her hair long and singed at the ends. Was she the one laughing?

 

Sweat gathered around my hairline. Please don’t make me go, I thought, please don’t make me look—

 

The laughing girl turned toward me, face stretched into a smile. She looked familiar, but not familiar enough for me to—

 

“This is where it all begins,” she said, and her voice didn’t match her face. It was too calm—and her eyes were manic, green like a tornadic sky. I wanted to back away from her; her presence screamed danger, almost as much as the flames taking the city.

 

“What?” The air tasted like smoke, trash, death.

 

She stood up; her skirt was torn, and her knees had scorch marks on them. The tendrils of a white ribbon floated around her face.

 

“This is all for you,” she said, her hands outstretched, as though she were prepared to begin praying. “All of it has been for you.”

 

She was wearing a school uniform. The same uniform I had on, I realized, too late. She was—

 

“Here. Take my hand,” she said, stepping closer. I was frozen, couldn’t run, couldn’t reach for her; everything had slowed. The universe emphasized this moment. She grabbed for my arm, but her hand simply moved through my skin, as though she were a phantom grasping at a dimension beyond its reach.

 

“No,” she said, but that was all she could manage before the world began to darken. Smoke streamed around the brick buildings that shielded us; the fire had taken to the sky, so that all we could see before us was a red, brilliant hell.

 

“Wait—”

 

I woke with a start, gasping for air. I was in my room; the light that poured in through my window was only morning sun.

 

 _I need to stop watching anime before bed,_ I thought, wiping at my eyes. My alarm clock told the same old story—7:45 am, just enough time to brush my hair and teeth and scramble out the door to school.

 

But when I looked in the mirror, I saw it.

 

A little black spot on my cheek.

 

I wiped it away—it was soot. It smeared across my cheekbones, a haunting gray question mark.

 

“Ink,” I decided. It had to be.

 

I couldn’t dwell on it anymore—couldn’t afford to be late to my first class again. At this rate, Sayori might actually make it to school before me.

 

I grabbed my backpack and scrambled for the front door.

 

Almost simultaneously, the door to the house next to mine slammed open. To my chagrin, Sayori was leaving her own house at the same time. She smiled brilliantly in my direction.

 

“Just in time, Tomi,” she teased.

 

“Like you have any room to talk.” I trotted to catch up with her. As usual, her uniform only barely passed the dress code; her blazer was unbuttoned and her shirt collar was wrinkled. I had to guess that her hair had only briefly met a brush that morning, but as usual, her red bow was tightly secured to the side of her head.

 

“Hey, it’s the first day of school! Cut me some slack.” She spun around to face me, walking backward and nearly colliding with another group of students. “So! Let’s talk about clubs!”

 

 _Ugh. This already?_ “I told you. I’m not joining any clubs.”

 

She pouted immediately. “What? But we’re fourth years now! We have to start thinking about college. You _are_ going to college, right?”

 

I shrugged.

 

“Tomi…”

 

“If I say I’ll _look_ at a couple of clubs, will you stop pestering me about it?”

 

She brightened at my concession. “Yes! I know a couple you could look at, if you want.”

 

“Fine.” Her enthusiasm was draining—especially after last night. The dream had left me restless, and my fatigue was growing by the minute. “But I’m letting you know right now that I’m probably going to join the anime club, if any.”

 

“What? No! You can’t do that. What good is that going to do? You can watch anime at home.”

 

“Yeah, but if I _have_ to join one—”

 

“Besides, you’ll probably be the only girl in there! Wouldn’t that be weird?” She nudged me. I supposed she had a point—I’d seen some of the guys in the anime club, and the word “creep” didn’t quite cover it. I wasn’t even that attractive, and I’d still probably get hit on the second I walked into the room.

 

“Okay then. What’s your big recommendation?”

 

She looked at me with a secretive smile, then giggled. A warning sign. I crossed my arms beneath my breasts and stopped walking.

 

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that! I’ll show you after school. I think you’ll really like it.” She walked ahead of me, practically bouncing out of her skin.

 

I watched her head to her first class and sighed to myself. I’d been friends with Sayori since we were practically babies, holding hands and tripping up the kindergarten steps together. It was a friendship of convenience, mostly; she lived next door to me, and we were both the same age, and both girls. If I had met her in high school, I never likely would have given her the time of day. Too bouncy, too clumsy, too forgetful—distractingly annoying, really.

 

I smiled. _Well, she isn’t_ that _bad, I guess._ No one else would dare talk shit about Sayori around me, and I was the one cleaning up her messes, so I had some right.

 

I slid into the first empty desk I could find in my new classroom, and began to doodle as the instructor clicked through a few slides and droned about his own life.

 

I started drawing jagged lines with my ink pen, lines that reached towards the edges of the paper. Flames.

 

At the bottom, I scribbled a white silken ribbon, scorched but still intact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates will be as often as i can churn them out;;
> 
> all concrit/comments/whatever would be amazing;;
> 
> you can find me here for fandom, shitposts, and updates;;
> 
> \--kitxune.tumblr.com  
> \--twitter.com/ms_ingno


	2. Stagnating Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tomi joins the literature club. Why does something feel off?

* * *

 

Stagnating air is common foreshadowing that something horrible is about to happen…

 

\--Yuri, _Doki Doki Literature Club!_

 

* * *

 

 

“This way! Our club room is upstairs,” Sayori said, tugging me along behind her. I pulled my messenger back up over my shoulder, trying my best not to keep pouting. _Won’t do me any good to have a bad attitude about it,_ I thought.

 

The anxiety had begun to bubble up inside me, though. Sayori’s plan all along had been to get me to go to her club meeting. _Her_ club! Since when did Sayori have a club? Vice president, even! I’d never even seen her change her sheets by herself before.

 

I’d tried to resist when she revealed that it was the _literature_ club, of all things.

 

“Uh, no. I last read a book, like, two years ago,” I had told her, crossing my arms.

 

“Wait. You mean you haven’t even read a book for class?” I started to reply, but she kept talking. “Doesn’t matter. Look, Tomi, everyone there is really nice. They won’t judge you. And it would mean so much to me if you came.”

 

“So?” She knew she had me, though. The look on her face was one I’d seen on our housecat’s after finishing a bowl of kibble. Too pleased with herself. “Okay, fine. Are there a lot of people there?”

 

“Nah. Just four of us right now. We’re hoping to expand, though.”

 

I’d decided that I could manage four other people—especially since one of them was Sayori. I still wasn’t happy about the situation, though. Why did Sayori have to keep meddling in my life? Why was it so important to her that I be social?

 

 _Ugh._ My attempts at having a positive attitude were failing. Nonetheless, Sayori led me up the stairs and into a hallway used for third year classes. The first door on the right was open. I could hear a girl’s voice, laughing, inside.

 

I tensed again.

 

“It’s fine! They’re my friends,” Sayori said, smiling warmly. “I’ll make sure we all get along. You’re really doing me a big favor, Tomi.”

 

“You owe me,” I grumbled before letting her pull me into the room.

 

The classroom was set up like I imagined most clubs’—the scatter of desks and chairs were rearranged into a circle, so as to force group interaction. Most of the desks were lonely, though—there were only three other girls in the room. The room, though normal-sized, seemed enormous in its emptiness.

 

“We’re here, everyone!” Sayori said. They all three turned towards me with curious eyes. “This is my friend, Tomi. She said she’d check out the club!”

 

“Hello,” one of them said, standing as we entered. Her hair was long and dark, partly obscuring a pale, shy face. “I’m Yuri. Pleased to meet you, Tomi.”

 

“Hi,” I managed. I didn’t recognize Yuri at first glance, but then I remembered where I’d seen her before: sitting alone at lunch at a corner table, usually with a cup of tea and an open book. She wasn’t necessarily unpopular, but she was something of a loner and known as a goody-goody.

 

Another girl, this one much shorter and smaller in frame, was seated on the edge of a desk. Her hair was neon pink, tied up into pigtails with decorative ribbons. Her voice was tough and clashed sharply with her cute aesthetic. _Must be a first year,_ I decided. Not only did I not recognize her, but she seemed incredibly young.

 

“I’m Natsuki. You Sayori’s girlfriend or something?”

 

I nearly choked on my own saliva. “N-no! We’re just—”

 

“We’re _friends_ , Natsuki.” Sayori giggled.

 

The last girl turned away from the window, where I could see the sun beginning to descend. Illuminated by the deep golden light, she looked almost angelic. Her chestnut hair was impossibly long, but held away from her face by—

 

A white silk ribbon.

 

I felt cold, although the room had been too warm only moments ago.

 

Her eyes were vibrantly, aggressively green. She tilted her head towards us. A friendly gesture, but one that immediately put me on edge. I almost felt as though we were about to begin fencing.

 

Was she feeling it too?

 

“Hi there, Tomi. I’m the club president. Monika.” She walked towards Sayori and I, extending her hand. I thought, just for a moment, that it would clip through my skin as I reached back—but no, of course not. Her skin was smooth and warm.

 

“Nice to meet you all,” I said. She couldn’t be the girl from my dream, because I’d never seen her before in my life—not in reality, anyway. Didn’t they say you couldn’t dream of someone you’d never met?

 

But no, it had to be her. Like in the dream, she wore black thigh highs, whereas the rest of the girls—myself included—had on white knee socks. I suddenly found that strange—why was she allowed to get away with something like that? Our high school was usually fairly strict on the dress code.

 

As though she sensed my criticisms, Monika kicked at the tile.

 

“So, are you a fourth year, too?”

 

“Yes, I am. I’m a transfer student,” she said, looking at the other girls shyly. “I was shocked when they asked me to be the president of this club, but I guess I do have the experience. I was the president of the debate club at my old school.”

 

Wow. “Debate club? So why literature?”

 

Monika put her hands behind her back and smiled. “I love literature. Don’t you? It’s so versatile, you know? There’s something here for everyone. We all like different things.”

 

Yuri nodded. “Yes, that’s true. I read horror novels, for instance.”

 

Natsuki crossed her legs at the ankles. “Ugh. Horror. You _would._ ”

 

Yuri immediately looked annoyed at this. “You know, I don’t say anything when you read manga, of all things, in here.”

 

“Yeah? Well, why _would_ you?” Natsuki stared at her.

 

“Wait. You like manga?” Maybe there was a way I could fit in after all. Natsuki looked my way, seemingly surprised.

 

“Yeah. Well… I mean…”

 

“See! Everyone likes different things,” Sayori chimed in, her voice loud next to my ear. “So, you see Tomi, anyone could fit in here if they wanted!”

 

I glared at her. _Way to put me on the spot, Sayori…_ she was going to pay for this, one way or another. I’d just have to think of something fitting.

 

“Well, there’s no pressure to join, Tomi.” Monika toyed with an ink pen, small and pink and dotted with a heart on the end. “Today is the first day back at school, so we don’t really have anything planned today, except for people to kind of get to know each other. I guess we can figure out what to do for tomorrow so that you’ll know what kind of thing you’d be getting into.”

 

Her face was serene, but something about that sentence felt ominous. I hugged at my shoulders and wondered if I should put my blazer back on. Generally, I hated long sleeves—they felt constricting—and I took to wearing my jacket around my waist when I was around lenient teachers. Here, no one minded if I skirted the dress code a little…

 

But this room was feeling colder and colder by the moment.

 

Sayori seemed oblivious to my bad feelings. “Sure! Does anyone have any ideas?” She was speaking, I thought, to Natsuki and Yuri specifically. The two of them refused to look at one another. Maybe there was bad blood.

 

“No,” Natsuki said. “Why is it our job to come up with stuff to do? Isn’t that _your_ job, Sayori?”

 

“I think she’s just asking for ideas,” Yuri said. Her tone was mild, but she was obviously annoyed.

 

“Yeah, no duh.” Natsuki hopped off of the desk she’d been sitting on. “I guess we could take turns reading different things? Isn’t that what most literature clubs do?”

 

Monika nodded, clicking her pen thoughtfully. “That’s true, but could we really find something everyone would enjoy?”

 

“I guess you’re right. I don’t want to read horror.”

 

Yuri narrowed her eyes. “Well, I’d prefer not to read manga either. So I agree.”

 

I scratched my cheek and spoke without thinking. “Do you guys write at all? Maybe that’s something?”

 

Sayori clasped my arm, surprised that I’d contributed. “Tomi! That’s a great idea! We can write… stories! And read them to each other!”

 

Monika looked at me appreciatively. “Maybe not stories—I don’t know if we’d have enough time to do that every day. But…” she clicked her pen again, “what about poems?”

 

Natsuki and Yuri looked at one another, then glanced away.

 

“I do write poems sometimes,” Natsuki grumbled.

 

“I do too,” Yuri conceded. “But, Monika, I’ve never read them to anyone.”

 

“I think we should try it at least once,” she said. “If we don’t like it, or it feels too weird, then we can try something else! But we could all try it, right?”

 

Sayori nodded. “I think it’s a cool idea!”

 

Natsuki sighed. “Fine. I guess.”

 

After a moment, seemingly defeated, Yuri said, “…If everyone else wants to do it, then I will as well.”

 

Then they looked at me.

 

I was confused momentarily until I realized… I’d given them the idea. Monika probably thought I’d decided to try it, too!

 

“I—I don’t write,” I said quickly.

 

Natsuki snorted. “Then why would you suggest that we do it?”

 

Monika shushed her with a look. “Tomi, would you be open to trying it? Even just once? I think that even if we decide not to keep doing it, it would be a great way to get to know one another.”

 

I turned and looked at Sayori. Her blue eyes burned into my face, pleading.

 

“Um…”

 

I looked back at Monika. Something about her seemed… impatient.

 

She wanted me to join.

 

And… could I really say no?

 

“I’ll give it a try, I guess. But just for one day,” I said, giving Sayori a hard look. She ignored it and squealed happily, hugging my around the waist.

 

Natsuki raised her eyebrows, but I decided to let Sayori have her little victory. I guess she’d begged me to come here because she wanted to impress Monika by recruiting a new member.

 

And yes, I was right—Monika seemed visibly pleased.

 

“That’s great! I won’t give a theme or anything like that. You all write whatever you want to and bring it to the club tomorrow.” She looked at me meaningfully. “Tomi, don’t feel any pressure. Just do your best! We’re not judgmental here.”

 

I couldn’t help but look at Natsuki and Yuri. _Maybe not all of you are._

Regardless. I’d sealed my fate. I tried to smile back at her. “Okay. Well… is that it then?”

 

“Yupp! I’ll see you all tomorrow!”

 

The other girls started to gather their things, talking amongst themselves. I felt shaky with relief—somehow I’d survived the literature club meeting. Not that I was out of the woods yet—by a long shot.

 

Sayori tugged at me. “Tomi, wanna walk home together?”

 

I nodded; even if I _was_ a little miffed with her, she was still my friend. Besides… maybe I could convince her to write my poem for me.

 

 _Yeah, right,_ I thought as we left the classroom. _Her’s will probably be just as bad as mine._


	3. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tomi notices that Monika, Yuri, and Natsuki all share something in common.

* * *

 

 “And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don't believe in magic will never find it.”

― Roald Dahl, _The Minpins_

 

* * *

 

 

Night had long fallen, but I couldn’t go to bed yet. I sat at my desk, which was shoved unceremoniously into the corner of my bedroom. Barely used. If I ever decided to do homework, it was usually half-assed, in front of the TV with a bowl of ramen at my feet.

 

This was different, though. I needed to try, at least.

 

I glanced at the little clock on my computer. Almost nine o' clock at night, and the word processor cursor blinked at the first line of empty text, expectant and mildly anxiety-inducing.

 

I kicked myself away from my desk, the wheels on my computer chair catching against the carpet. I couldn’t think of a damn thing to write.

 

I knew it was ridiculous to be feeling this way. For one thing, it was my idea! _Is it my fault that I’m a fucking idiot, though,_ I thought, exhaling. For another thing, the other girls probably weren’t the Shakespeares and Plaths I was imagining them to be… but still, the very idea of writing a poem and then sharing it with one of the girls in the club...

 

My stomach clenched at the idea of their eyes on my shitty writing.

 

_But you can't disappoint Monika_ , I chided myself. _Besides, how would Sayori feel if you showed up to your first "real" meeting without a poem?_

 

I leaned back in my chair; it creaked in complaint. _Think, Tomi. What if I… write it to someone’s tastes specifically?_

 

Okay, not unreasonable. The question is… for who?

 

I considered the four girls. Natsuki came to mind, her hair tied up in sections, her fierce expression. Despite her hard exterior, she seemed like she'd like a cute poem, something romantic. Yuri, with her quiet demeanor and her horror novels, might have liked something a little more complex--maybe too advanced for me.

 

I bit at one of my fingernails, deep in thought.

 

_What about... Sayori?_ She was my best friend, my neighbor since we had started school together. I realized, though, that I had no earthly idea of what Sayori might like to write or read. I mean… I’d been shocked when she’d told me about the literature club in the first place. _Has Sayori ever written a damn thing in her life?_ I thought, frustrated.

 

And then there was Monika…

 

I scooted my chair forward until my chest bumped into the edge of my desk and began to mindlessly type. Either they’d like it, or they wouldn’t. That was all I could do.

 

* * *

 

The next school day went by too fast. Before I knew it, I was lugging myself up the stairs, up to a room with three judgmental girls... and one clueless one.

 

I'd decided I'd hand my poem to Monika first. She’d been so excited to read it, and even if she did make me nervous… and I had to admit, her presence was somewhat intoxicating. While the other girls read from their books or messed with art supplies, she sat at the teacher’s desk and went over what looked like budget information. Or was that a schedule of some kind?

 

She looked up at me with the same welcoming expression she’d given me yesterday. “Tomi! You wrote a poem! That’s great.” She stood up; the screech of her char against the linoleum made the others perk up.

 

“Okay, everyone! It’s time to share poems.” She tugged gently at one of the strands flowing from her white ribbon. “It’s okay to be nervous, but remember—this is for fun! So don’t be scared!”

 

Sayori excitedly grabbed for her bag; she pulled out a wrinkled sheet of paper with what looked like a coffee stain on it. _Couldn’t even be bothered to type it or write it neatly…_ Meanwhile, Natsuki and Yuri, both visibly nervous, reached for their own bags.

 

Monika's gleaming green eyes flicked over my poem. From where I was standing—just a centimeter or two shorter than her—I could make out the typeface where the fluorescent lights filtered through the paper. I rubbed my sweaty palms against my skirt, hoping she couldn’t tell how nervous I was.

 

After a minute or two, she looked back down at me, a kind expression on her face.

 

"It's great! I love it, really," she said. I genuinely couldn’t tell if she was lying to me or not, but I decided not to push the issue.

 

“Aw, really? Thanks, Monika.”

 

"The language is simple, like something Natsuki or maybe Sayori might write... but it's so dark! I bet Yuri would like it, too," she said, gesturing loosely to the classroom behind us. I glanced over my shoulder.

 

Natsuki and Yuri quietly read one another’s poems. Neither looked particularly happy about it. Sayori was watching me; when I met her eyes, she gave me an indiscreet thumbs up.

 

"Wow. That’s really nice of you, Monika. But… don’t feel like you have to lie to me, or anything.” I laughed nervously. She shook her head in protest.

 

“Oh, no! I know you don’t know me well, yet, Tomi,” she said, “but I’m not much of a liar.”

 

“Well… okay, then. I believe you.”

 

"Would you like to read mine now?"

 

She flashed her winning smile, and I nodded. Although I was sure it’d make me feel dreadfully inadequate, I couldn’t help but be curious about what these girls would be writing about.

 

As she handed me a pristine piece of typed paper, I noticed her hands. _Interesting,_ I thought. Her fingernails were bare, cleaned and buffed—save one. Her index finger had a green design painted onto it. A heart, it looked like.

 

“I like your nail polish,” I said. She looked at her hand as though she’d forgotten she’d had anything there.

 

“Oh… thank you. Here, read this and tell me what you think.” She pushed the piece of paper into my hands.

 

I skimmed the poem. While mine had been straightforward, cut into boring, even quatrains, her own danced across the page, freeform and filled with what seemed to me like arbitrary spaces and capitalization.

 

I didn’t really understand it, but I could admit that I felt strange while reading it.

 

What was that term—that term that described the feeling of doing something you’d done before?

 

Déjà vu.

 

“I like it,” I said, handing it back to her. “But I’m afraid I don’t really understand it. I’m sorry. I wish I was better at this whole critiquing thing.”

 

“Well, I don’t blame you. You’re new to all of it, right?” She gave her own poem a dismissive glance before sliding it into a neat file folder on her desk.

 

“Yeah. Hey, do you mind? What’s it about?”

 

She leaned back, crossed her arms. “Hah. Well… I guess it would be hard for me to tell you what it’s about. Sometimes poems aren’t really _about_ anything, Tomi. I guess the others in this club would disagree with me on that, though.” She flicked her gaze over to where Natsuki and Yuri stood, and where Sayori fiddled with her own paper. “But, hey, I appreciate that you took the time to read it. And I’m really glad you decided to participate.”

 

“Yeah, of course.” I felt as though she had dismissed me. Like she’d just slammed a door in my face. It only deepened my curiosity, but, again, I felt it unnecessary to push it.

 

“My writing tip of the day…” she leaned close to me all of a sudden, with a lightning dexterity; I caught a glimpse of that fingernail again, with the design on it. I noticed a ring on that same finger, threaded with a similar green color.

 

I stiffened; she was almost on top of me. I could feel her breath; my heart thudded briefly. Her perfume was intricate, layered with what smelled to me like sweet wood smoke and white flowers. I lost my train of thought, or any thought, really...

 

“Don’t try too hard to please everyone else. It’ll only set you up for failure.” She pulled away, picked up her file folder, and walked over to Sayori, who waited for her like an eager puppy.

 

I touched my ear, which she’d almost grazed; I was blushing too hard to turn around, so I waited, puzzling out what had just happened.

 

In the meantime, I heard Natsuki and Yuri behind me. I tried to peek, curious.

 

“Well.” Natsuki returned Yuri’s poem to her, her smile flat. “It’s not bad. Kinda… fancy.”

 

I looked at Yuri. She struggled to take the “compliment”—she put Natsuki’s poem aside and tried to smile. “Thank you. Your poem is… _cute_.”

 

The word cracked in the air between them. Natsuki immediately bristled, rising up to her full 5’1” and leaning forward on her toes.

 

“ _Cute_? What is that supposed to mean?”

 

“I just meant that the language is cute,” Yuri said mildly.

 

“Better cute than try-hard, I guess,” Natsuki bit back.

 

It was Yuri’s turn to become angry now. She pulled herself up, straightening her posture; it may have been the first time I’d seen her stand like that, instead of hunched over and hiding.

 

“Is it only try-hard because you didn’t seem to try at all?” Next to Natsuki, she seemed almost imposing. Still, Yuri didn’t raise her voice; it was Natsuki who buzzed angrily beside her, voice escalating.

 

“What, just because someone doesn’t think they need to try to be edgy all the time, they’re not trying?”

 

“Edgy? I think what you meant is _mature._ ” Yuri’s eyes narrowed until she caught a glimpse of me spying on them. She seemed to flush at my intrusion. I quickly turned, but not before Natsuki noticed what she was looking at.

 

“What’s the matter, Tomi? Nothing better to do?”

 

_Whoops._ I turned toward them. “I’m sorry. I was just—”

 

“This is none of your business—got that?”

 

“I know, I—”

 

“I agree,” Yuri interjected. “Sorry, Tomi, but Natsuki is the one who decided to make this personal.”

 

“Hah! _I_ decided?”

 

“You’re the one who decided to act like a child about my—”

 

“ _You_ insulted _me_ first!”

 

“Are you serious? I only tried to he—”

 

“Guys!”

 

Sayori shoved herself in between the two of them, as though she thought they’d come to blows if she didn’t. I almost wouldn’t have been surprised; although Yuri seemed rattled, it was Natsuki who looked as though she were close to flying off the handle.

 

“It’s okay to have different opinions,” Sayori cajoled, putting a hand on each girl’s shoulder. Yuri looked startled at the contact; Natsuki grimaced. “But you guys have to be—what’s the word?”

 

“Constructive?” I offered, and Natsuki gave me a look filled with distaste.

 

“Constructive! Right! You need to be constructive when you read other people’s work,” Sayori said.

 

Reluctantly, Yuri nodded, pulling away from Sayori. “I’m sorry, Sayori. You’re right. I’m sorry for causing a scene in the classroom.”

 

“I’m not,” Natsuki said, almost under her breath; but she, too, relaxed her posture and turned away. “I’ll just… share it with Monika, I guess.”

 

“Great idea,” Sayori said, looking pleased. I was actually impressed with her conflict resolution skills. I’d been afraid to get too close to either girl; I didn’t know them well enough to try and mediate, and besides, what would I have said?

 

“I’ll share with Tomi, then.” Yuri looked towards me as if asking for approval. I smiled and nodded.

 

I sat next to Yuri in the desk that Natsuki had sat in before; her cupcake-scented perfume still occupied the air.

 

“I’m sorry about that,” Yuri said, trying for a smile. “I just… well, she just knows how to push my buttons, I guess. I know better than to let her, though.”

 

“Hey, it’s okay,” I said. “I know how that is.”

 

I handed her my poem, and she looked over it—much slower than Monika had, with more intensity. I’d actually never been this close to Yuri before; she smelled like the library, like books and faintly of dust. Her hair, which looked almost-black from a distance, was actually a shining shadowy violet. And her hands—

 

On one long, clear, filed nail, there was a simple design. It was purple, somewhat more intricate than Monika’s had been. Yuri’s looked like an eye. And there, at the base of the finger, was a ring, threaded with purple.

 

_Why would they both have the same design?_ I thought. Maybe it was a club thing? Some kind of show of solidarity? Was it an inside joke I didn’t know about?

 

“What’s that for?” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

 

Yuri saw what I was looking at and blushed. “I just like it.”

 

“Monika has one kinda like that,” I said. Yuri nodded.

 

“I saw her nails and decided to get mine done like that, too,” she said.

 

_Interesting._ I looked at my own nails, blank canvasses. Were we all expected to paint our nails here? It felt like a cultish thing to do.

 

And that’s not what this was, right—a cult?

 

After the club meeting had ended, Sayori and I started our long walk home. The sun was low, and the air was warm with the fullness of a late summer. My head swam with all that had happened—reading poems, Monika’s strange behavior, Natsuki and Yuri’s fight…

 

And those nails.

 

“Hey, Sayori,” I said, stopping. “Let me see your hands.”

 

“Huh?” She let me pick them up and study the nails. They were all chewed short, completely bare. She wore no ring.

 

_Is it really just something Yuri did to copy Monika?_

 

“What’s up? Is there something wrong?” Sayori tilted her head. Sunlight streamed through her hair, lighting it up with amber fire.

 

“Nah, nothing.” I tried to sound nonchalant as I dropped her hands. “Wanna come over and help with my poem?”

 

“Sure! Been awhile since I went to your house,” she said, sounding pleased. Really, I didn’t want her over; I wanted to think about everything that had transpired in silence. But I didn’t want her to think I was suspicious or—well, more accurately, just acting crazy.

 

Was I?

 

It was probable…

 

But…

 

I shook my head, as if to reset my brain. There was one more thing I’d need to check before I asked any questions.

 

* * *

 

“Hi,” I said, squeezing into the desk next to Natsuki’s.

 

The club meeting hadn’t started yet; both Monika and Sayori were outside the room, chatting about something, and Yuri was at the edge of our “circle” of desks, bent over a novel. Natsuki looked surprised to see me, and more than a little suspicious.

 

“Hi. What is it?”

 

I tried to look at her fingernails, but she had both hands tucked into her arms in a defensive position.

 

“I just…” Now what? “I thought we got off on the wrong foot, kind of. So I just wanted to talk, I guess. We’re in the same club now, right? So…”

 

Natsuki said nothing, but her stare was unimpressed with my rambling.

 

I grasped for basic courtesy. “What grade are you in again? Are you a first year?”

 

Her face crimped in anger. “A first year? What the hell? You think I’m fourteen?”

 

_Fuck._ I scrambled. “N-no, I just haven’t seen you before.”

 

“So you automatically assumed I was that young!” She huffed. “I’m a third-year, thank you very much. I'm only _one year_ behind you guys. Just because I’m small doesn’t mean…” the rest of her sentence turned into a grumble.

 

“I’m sorry,” I said, my face feeling hot. Jesus, what was this girl’s problem? “I don’t think you look fourteen. I was just trying to make conversation.”

 

“Great conversation,” she said, turning her face toward the open door. Monika and Sayori were still outside.

 

_Come on, idiot,_ I thought to myself. _Think of something! If she hates me forever, it’s going to make all this that much more difficult._

Then I remembered something, from the first day, when Monika had been introducing everyone.

 

“You like manga, right?”

 

“What’s it to you?”

 

“Well… I don’t know. I like it, too.”

 

She snapped her head toward me. “You do?” Most of her aggression vanished like mist in a strong gale. _Finally._

 

“Yeah, I actually do. I mean, I usually read shounen, but I’ve been known to read other stuff,” I said.

 

“I don’t really read that stuff…”

 

“What do you like?”

 

“Well. My favorite series is this one.”

 

She reached for her bag and pulled out a slim pink volume. The front of it showed four cute, stylized girls. “Parfait Girls.”

 

I’d never heard of it before, but something on my face must have given her the wrong idea.

 

“We can’t all like gory stuff,” she said, pulling the book towards her small chest in a defensive gesture.

 

“Oh, no—I mean, I used to read that stuff all the time,” I tried. “I actually just haven’t heard of that one. What’s it about?”

 

She relaxed visibly, placed the manga back down on her desk. “Oh. Well, it’s about these four girls…” as she explained the plot to me, I glanced down at her hands, which tapped nervously against the glossy cover of the volume.

 

One of her very small, thin fingers bore a ring with pink details. On the nail was a simplistic cat’s head, painted in pink.

 

_I knew it._

“Are you even listening?” She said, noticing my stares.

 

“I’m sorry! I think it would be better if I read it,” I said, biting my lip. She seemed to study me before she handed me the book.

 

“Well, fine. Read this. Let me know what you think. But if you drop food on it, or tear up the pages…” she hopped out of her desk and loomed over me—well, to the best of her ability. “I will _end_ you.”

 

I watched her stalk to the closet in the back, then slipped the manga into my bag.

 

So.

 

Say Monika had a design she liked—a green heart. Fine. And maybe Yuri saw it one day and decided to paint one of her nails that way, too. But Natsuki? The girl could barely make civil conversation with most of the other girls in the club.

 

And least of all Yuri. I found it hard to believe that Natsuki and Yuri would share nail polish ideas with one another.

 

_That’s it,_ I decided. _It’s a cult. I’m in a cult._

But why would Sayori not have the design on her own fingernails? She didn't even have a ring. She was vice president, right?

 

I heard footsteps; I looked up, and Monika, green eyes brilliant in the afternoon sun, walked into the room. Sayori walked at her heels, cheerful as ever.

 

I had to figure this out. It seemed stupid even to me, but…

 

The moment I’d crossed the barrier between the school hallway into this clubroom, I’d felt something off.

 

And then there was the dream.

 

Monika smiled at me from across the room, and I shivered despite the summer warmth.

 

Somehow I knew she was the source of all this weirdness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i finally started getting to the magical girl stuff;
> 
> from here on out it goes fast.
> 
> thanks for reading if you do!


	4. I Flicker Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Yuri.

* * *

 Calm; breathing air of the present but living in the past.

The light flickers.

I flicker back.

  
\--Yuri, “Ghost Under the Light”

* * *

 

“Stop walking so fast,” Sayori complained from behind me. I paused, kicking up a pile of dust as I did so. The air had chilled considerably since we’d gotten out of the club; it seemed autumn was fast approaching, which I was happy about. I much preferred the brisk feeling of a fall sunset to the somewhat suffocating summer heat we’d been experiencing since school had begun.

 

“Sorry. I didn’t even realize I was.” We were on our way home from a club meeting. It had been two weeks now, and things had mostly settled into a routine. I brought my poems every other day, let the other girls read them, and received their various critiques with relatively open arms. Some were harsher than others—Yuri and Natsuki always had critical things to say about them, which I took to heart. They took themselves very seriously, which I found amusing and admirable at the same time.

 

Meanwhile, Sayori seemed more or less pleased that I was just writing anything. Every time she read one of my poems, she practically hummed her approval, even if I’d just scribbled something random to meet my quota.

 

And Monika… well, I thought she was just humoring me. Perhaps she was just glad I had joined—not _me_ specifically, per se; just that I was a warm body occupying the clubroom’s space, making her look like a competent club president.

 

My two weeks in the club so far, unbeknownst to the other girls, had been filled with painstaking observations. After I’d realized that Monika, Yuri, _and_ Natsuki all shared fingernail designs and ring choices, I’d tried to tune in to their respective mannerisms… but it wasn’t a fruitful endeavor. Yuri and Natsuki spent every single meeting either angry at one another or not talking at all, and Monika’s actions were never consistent; she ran the meetings with efficiency, streamlining our activities, but she flitted in and out of the classroom at whim.

 

In fact… I hadn’t even thought of the fingernail thing since that second day, when I’d first noticed it. Now, though, waiting on Sayori, I thought again of Monika’s strange behavior, which alternated between intimidating and welcoming—almost _too_ welcoming…

 

I looked behind me, where Sayori trudged. Her uniform looked worse than usual; the tie we were supposed to knot around our necks hung loosely around her wrinkled collar, and one of the buttons on her undershirt wasn’t buttoned at all.

 

“Are you okay?” I asked; I hadn’t really _noticed_ her at all that day. Her usual energy was subdued, and honestly, even Sayori tried to button her clothes properly—usually.

 

“I’m fine,” she replied, smiling—but it looked off. “Just a little tired, I think. I didn’t sleep so great last night.”

 

“Oh.” I could relate to that, at least. I waited for her to catch up with me. “Hey, can I ask you a question?”

 

“Sure.”

 

“Have you ever… um…” I paused. _Try not to be_ too _weird, Tomi._ “How long have you known Monika and the others?”

 

She tilted her head. “Well… I met Monika the week before school started because we were going over club stuff… she’s a transfer student, so I hadn’t met her before that. She’s really cool though, don’t you think?”

 

“Yeah. Well… what about Yuri and Natsuki?”

 

She bit her lip, thinking. “Yuri… well, I’d seen her around before, but I guess I never got to know her before school started. And I met Natsuki when she joined the club.”

 

 _Interesting._ “Have you ever noticed that they all paint their fingernails the same?”

 

Sayori laughed. “What? Why would I ever notice a thing like that?”

 

I flushed, realizing that I sounded a little crazier than I’d intended to. “I know, I know, but… they literally all three have the same designs! It’s really weird.”

 

“Tomi. I think you should focus less on stuff like that and more on the poetry we’re supposed to be writing tonight.”

 

I rolled my eyes. “You _really_ don’t think it’s even a little weird?”

 

“Well, I’d have to see it for myself, I guess.” She suddenly halted in front of me. “Wait—do you feel that?”

 

I stopped next to her, crossing my arms. The wind had a bite now, sharpening its teeth as it grew darker outside. I tugged at the sleeve of my blazer, still tied around my waist. “Feel what? The wind? It got cold.”

 

“No…” Sayori’s body stiffened next to mine. “It’s…”

 

 _Static._ Well—something like that, something… crinkling, in the air around us. I did feel it, now that she mentioned it.

 

Wait.

 

That dream… that dream where I’d met Monika…

 

I remembered the air feeling like aluminum foil, crumpled into a sharp, metallic mess. Remembered the smell of fire, but… now, I smelled nothing. I took in our surroundings, tried to focus. There was no trash lining the sidewalks. We were only two blocks away from our homes.

 

“Is this, like, one of those things that happens before lightning is supposed to strike?” I asked, trying for a joking tone.

 

Sayori glanced at the sky. It was clear.

 

That was when I felt it—an overwhelming vertigo, a centrifugal force shoving us both closer toward the ground. Sayori cried out in shock and grabbed for me. I let her, stumbling towards the street. Everything seemed to be bending around us, succumbing to the pressure of—

 

\--of what?

 

The wind picked up; our skirts streamed upwards, hair flying into our eyes. I tugged Sayori to her feet before realizing we were in the center of the street. Why was there no one else around? Why was it just us here, caught in the pressurized eye of the storm?

 

“Tomi…?”

 

“I—” I began to speak, but as my mouth opened, the asphalt beneath us began to tremble. Lights cut through the dusk, bathing us in furious white light. It was a car, barreling towards us, too fast to stop.

 

“Can’t they see us?” Sayori said, her voice high-pitched with fear. I began to wonder the same thing when I realized that the driver’s seat was empty. Black pits formed in the center of the car’s glaring beams. The headlights had irises, expanding as they approached us. The metal bumper became a mouth filled with broken steel teeth, luminous under the furious eyes.

 

 _What’s going on?_ My throat burned with panic. I had to think of something, but my thoughts were burning up like scraps of paper caught in a lit grill.

 

I tried to pull Sayori and I to the left, away from the center of the street, but the physics of earth itself had changed; neither of us could move. It was like a bad, slow-moving nightmare where you couldn’t run away from the monsters chasing you because you were moving on numb, crippled legs.

 

“Tomi!” Sayori’s voice rose to a shriek.

 

I didn’t know what else to do except grab her and hold tight. Maybe if we braced ourselves we would survive the impact—

 

But the sound of metal grinding made us start, fall back on our asses. The asphalt felt ice cold under our bare thighs. A girl stood before us, her purple-striped white skirt flowing behind us in the early autumn wind. The headlights illuminated her silhouette, her high-heeled boots, the heavy, jeweled belt at her waist, the hair that streamed towards the earth.

 

She’d put her hand out, her fingers stretched towards the offending metal behemoth. And to me, it looked like…

 

She hadn’t touched it, not even close—it was a few feet away from her—but somehow, it’d stopped, crushed against the weight of its own aggression. The teeth had fallen out of its “mouth.”

 

“What the fuck,” I said, almost before I’d realized that the girl standing between Sayori and I and certain death was _Yuri._

She turned to look at us, her long violet hair barely disturbed by the wind and the force of her attack. Her outfit was so strange that I hadn’t recognized her at all… that, and the circumstances, I supposed.

 

“Yuri?” Sayori tried to stand, but her knees gave out on her—most likely from a combination of shock and fright. Thanks to Yuri, neither of us had been crushed.

 

The girl nodded, her smile embarrassed. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner. I didn’t realize that this was where that magic was coming from.” She put her arms behind her back, and I took in this girl, who I’d shared a clubroom with for two weeks. Her breasts were concealed entirely behind the high neck of her dress, and her arms were covered in sleek white sleeves from fingertip to elbow. The ring was gone. But there was a slim oval on the bosom of her dress, a gleaming purple gem.

 

“What’s happening?” I asked, but Yuri shook her head as she came to help us to our feet.

 

“I’ll explain later,” she said, nodding toward the distorted sidewalks on either side of us. “We’re still inside the labyrinth.”

 

“Labyrinth?” Sayori and I blurted simultaneously. I hastily went on, “You know, this is creating more questions than it’s answering…”

 

She grabbed each of our hands—my right and Sayori’s left—and tugged us along, past the grinning dandelions dancing maniacally on the previously manicured lawns, past the suburban houses leaning towards us, mouths opening to reveal stunted brick teeth.

 

“I… I’m sorry,” she said hurriedly. “I’m not great at explanations. But I’ll tell you this. We’re in a witch’s labyrinth. And you can tell that we’re getting closer to the witch by the way everything is becoming increasingly… distorted.”

 

 _A witch’s labyrinth._ My logical brain struggled with this information, but I remembered the feeling Sayori and I had experienced before almost meeting death. That crackling, staticky air, the pressure, the shift in gravitational force.

 

I had too many questions—about Yuri’s strange outfit, the car becoming sentient and aggressive, the fact that she’d stopped a demon… but I suddenly was reminded of Sayori, stumbling along on Yuri’s other side.

 

I glanced at her, concerned. She hadn’t said anything in a while, and her blue eyes were blank with terror. I wanted to reach out to her, reassure her that everything was going to be okay, but Yuri stopped suddenly. Both Sayori and I were jerked forward.

 

“There,” Yuri said, letting our wrists fall. “ _That_ is a witch.”

 

I looked at where she was pointing. The thing at the nest of the labyrinth was strutting around in the drainage ditch, dangerously close to both Sayori’s house and my own. It looked like a cartoonish interpretation of an allergy commercial; it had the body of an overgrown dandelion, but crawled around on oversized, thorn-covered limbs and had a mouth full of thorn-like teeth.

 

Its eyes were wide; light poured from them, imitating the car’s headlights.

 

“That’s not the kind of witch I was expecting,” I murmured, afraid it would hear me. Yuri nodded, removing something from either side of the belt at her waist. I saw that they were knives, with gleaming silver blades and intricate jet-black handles.

 

“Please stand back. This shouldn’t take me long.”

 

With that, she moved, flashing like a white claw of lightning, toward the “witch” with enough force to blow us all back. The “witch” thing saw her coming, gave her a frightful grin. Its horrible laugh was grating, childlike. Sayori grabbed my hand.

 

Yuri was quick, but the demon was quicker; it climbed vertically, where vines studded with flashlights appeared out of thin air. Its touch commanded magic; I could see that each of the flashlights acted as eyes, studded with wavering black pupils. They all flicked toward Yuri, watching her.

 

It struck her first; one of the vines came loose, and I could see that it was studded with thorns. It smacked against her side, cracking like a whip. I winced for her, but Yuri seemed hardly fazed. The white cloth at her waist darkened slightly with blood, but it was almost as though she didn’t feel it.

 

“You’re trying too hard,” she said, her quiet voice more confident than I’d ever heard it before. “Accept your fate.”

 

With that, she raised both blades and made quick slashing motions; the vines tumbled, the witch caught off guard. It crashed towards her, _thudding_ against the concrete drainage ditch.

 

Yuri didn’t hesitate. She strode forward and slipped one of her knives into the ugly creature’s chest, up to its decorative hilt. It screamed, and it was by far one of the most unsettling noises I’d ever heard.

 

It sounded like a teenage girl in a slasher film who’d witnessed the murderer for the first time. But it quickly quieted into a bloodied gurgle. The creature withered away before our eyes and disappeared completely when Yuri retracted her knife.

 

Immediately, the world began to shift back, back to where it had been merely thirty minutes before. I exhaled, feeling most of my energy leave with my long-trapped breath. Sayori fell into me, her knees knocking slightly.

 

Yuri turned back towards us, her expression so damn familiar. It was the same look she’d given me after I’d praised her writing, or asked her for a book recommendation. The same look she wore when she felt included in our discussions. Her purple hair whipped with the wind, her eyes gleaming—she was a twilit vision, angelic in her white get-up. I felt myself unable to turn away as she approached us again.

 

“That’s that, then,” she said. She took Sayori’s hands, concern clouding her expression. “Are you hurt? Either of you?”

 

“No,” I said, laughing; I was dismayed to find that my voice was still shaky. “Thanks to you, anyway. You really saved our asses.”

 

She seemed surprised. “Of course. It’s my duty.” She looked back at Sayori. “How are you?”

 

“I’m… Yuri, what… what was that?” Sayori stared at her; her fear had mostly melted away, and a reverent look replaced it.

 

“I’d like to know, too,” I said.

 

Yuri smiled and sheathed both of her blades in one quick motion. “Of course. I’ll do my best to explain. One moment, though.” She turned back towards the rapidly disappearing corpse of the dandelion witch. From its body, she withdrew a tiny object and pocketed it.

 

“Now, then. Do you both have to be home immediately, or can you spare a few minutes?”

 

* * *

 

“Magical girl,” I mused aloud; Yuri’s explanation had left my head too full, too resistant of the fantastical information she’d provided. “So. You have, like… magical powers… and you just kill monsters? Like. That’s what you do? You’re like a superhero?”

 

Yuri laughed. “Well—I guess you could say that. It’s not really that simple, though.”

 

Sayori, meanwhile, was transfixed. I could practically see the hamster wheel grinding behind her face.

 

“Were you born a magical girl, Yuri?”

 

She shook her head and crossed her legs. Sayori had convinced her parents to let us talk upstairs, although it was a school night and the three of us clearly weren’t doing homework. It was rather convenient; my own mother had shrugged when I’d asked to attend the “study group,” and Yuri told us that her parents never even bothered asked her where she was. _Probably pretty convenient, since she’s out hunting witches on school nights,_ I thought.

 

She sobered up at Sayori’s question. “No. Magical girls aren’t _born_ the way human beings are. They’re made from contracts we make. We trade our powers for the responsibility of killing witches.”

 

 _Witches_. My entire life, I’d grown up with a single symbolic image of a witch in my head; green-faced, long-nosed, throwing live animals into a boiling cauldron. But Yuri spoke casually of witches, including the dandelion-faced, giggling monstrosity she’d just impaled.

 

“Beings born of curses,” she explained. “Magical girls are created from wishes. Witches, I guess, are our polar opposites.”

 

“Wow,” Sayori said, leaning forward. “That’s so cool, Yuri! I can’t believe you’ve never told us this!”

 

“I… well, you can imagine why,” she said, looking away. “I’m not exactly the… the most popular girl in our class, in the first place. This would hardly make me more likable.”

 

I could see her point. I liked Yuri well enough, but she _was_ considered… well, bizarre would be putting it nicely. But the fact that she literally saved the lives of the very students who mocked her… how was that fair, exactly?

 

I decided not to mention it. Surely, she had thought about it more than I had. Why rub it in.

 

“Are you the only magical girl here?” I found myself asking the question before I could stop and think about it.

 

Yuri shook her head. “Oh, no, not at all. I mean—” she stopped herself, covering her mouth with her hand. “There are others here, of course.”

 

“Who?” Sayori demanded. “Anyone we know?”

 

“Sayori,” I admonished. Yuri looked uncomfortable, shifted her gaze away. _So we do know them,_ I thought. “Is there… I mean… you said you had to make a contract, right? Who do you make it with? Is it another demon?”

 

Yuri looked at me with her eyes wide. “It—I think it depends,” she said hastily.

 

“Does anyone else know?” Sayori squeaked.

 

“There are… some others who do,” Yuri replied. “But listen… I shouldn’t out anyone else. You understand, don’t you? There are some who would be…” she paused, “…very angry, if I did that. Not everyone becomes a magical girl for the same reason… and not all of them are the kinds of people you would imagine them to be.”

 

Sayori and I shared a glance. _Does that mean they can be evil?_ I wondered.

 

Yuri tucked her legs beneath her, looking uncomfortable. “Oh, right. One more thing before I go. Remember this?” She reached into her blazer pocket and withdrew something small. A tiny object, black and cagelike; it smoldered with dark energy. “You remember where I got this, right?”

 

“The witch,” Sayori answered. Yuri nodded.

 

“Yes. This is the energy the witch leaves behind after it’s died. We replenish our own magic supply with these. We call them ‘grief seeds.’” She closed her eyes and seemed to bask in the energy it gave off; meanwhile, it crumbled, sootlike, between her fingers. The ring on her finger gleamed.

 

“Grief seed,” I said, pondering. “Because the witches are born from misery, and whatever, right?”

 

Yuri turned her head towards Sayori’s window, her eyes trained on the street light right outside. “Yes. That’s one way to put it.” She suddenly stood, hair swishing around her waist. Before she’d come to our “study group,” she’d changed back into her school uniform—and that had merely consisted of an energy exchange between her body and her “soul gem.”

 

We waved goodbye to Yuri, still stunned into relative silence by the evening’s events.

 

Yes… _soul gem_. Yuri had showed it to us while she was still in her magical girl form. The little jewel was a glowing amethyst, encased in wiry gold, and sat very small and vulnerable in Yuri’s palm.

 

“This contains the source of my power,” Yuri confessed to us, looking embarrassed as she did. “If it is ever destroyed, it will result in my own death.”

 

The idea of carrying your own life around in your own hands like that was troubling to me, despite the apparent benefits that came with it. Knowing me, if I had a soul gem, I would drop it just walking down the sidewalk. It would be that easy for me to kill myself.

 

And if that were true for me, just imagine Sayori! The girl wasn’t known for being able to take care of herself, or anything that she needed, really. And although she’d been doing relatively well for our first two weeks back at school, she’d been somewhat deteriorating…

 

And I hadn’t noticed until the witch’s egg hatched around us.

 

After Yuri left, I decided that we’d stayed up late enough. We still had to write poems, after all. And I hadn’t even thought about my calculus homework…

 

I stood to leave, but not before noticing the state of Sayori’s room.

 

Her sheets looked crumpled and unwashed. There was a stained coffee cup on her nightstand. Her uniforms weren’t hung up or ironed; some were haphazardly tossed onto her computer chair, while others were simply piled on the floor next to her bed.

 

 _Oh, Sayori,_ I thought. “You’re so messy,” I scolded her, lifting a couple of her creased white shirts into my arms. “Do you wait for me to come over so I can do all of your laundry for you?”

 

She leaned against her wall, still seated on the floor. Her smile was drained. “No, Tomi. I’m sorry. I just haven’t really gotten around to it in a while.”

 

“Well.” I couldn’t just leave here without at least hanging her shit up, right? “Get changed for bed. I’ll do this real quick before I leave.”

 

Without speaking, she went into her bathroom and gently shut the door. I could hear the sink running; when she came back out, she was dressed only in an oversized t-shirt.

 

“Thank you,” she said, giving me a kiss on the cheek before wriggling beneath her comforter.

 

I pretended to wipe her kiss away. “Ugh. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if i get details wrong, feel free to correct me; it's tough keeping track of two universes!
> 
> crit welcome <3


	5. When They Cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tomi's dreams haunt her. Something else haunts Sayori.

* * *

Deep within the mirror's edge

Many hands are desperate to breakaway  
They're reaching out to you  
To cure their loneliness  
Won't you lure another soul deep down here?

 

-AmaLee, “When They Cry (Higurashi)”, English cover

* * *

 

“Do you see now?”  
  


The sky was dark, bleeding with scarlet claws of fire. A building collapsed without fanfare; it just crumbled, only a short distance from where I stood on a skyscraping roof. Clouds hung low, pregnant, threatening to burst—but they wouldn’t, wouldn’t let its rain fall and put out the chaos beneath us.

 

“This has all been for you,” she said behind me. I turned to her, face wet—was I crying? Why was I crying? Why couldn’t I remember anything before this, before this exact moment?

 

“What has?” I asked.

 

Monika spread her arms, indicating it all: the destruction, the fire. “It’s been for you.  _Tomi._ ”

 

The way she said my name surprised me: roughly, raggedly, full of emotion. “Where are the others?” I asked, turning away from her.

 

“The others? There was never anyone else.” I felt a hand on my shoulder. Her breath felt as hot as the fire; it singed my ear.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“They’re not real. They were never real. It’s always just been me… and you.” She laughed, low and full, like a fruit about to burst from a summer-ripe branch.

 

I peered over the edge of the roof we stood on, into the smoking ruins of the city. I could see the dead bodies below us. Some of them—three of them—were wearing…

 

“Magical girls?” My shoulders felt stiff. My body was turning to stone, too slowly for me to stop. “What happened to them, Monika?”

 

I managed to move, my neck creaking, and there she stood, still in her school uniform, holding a tiny gleaming gem in one palm. It was green, greener than her eyes—and the little symbol on her nail glowed too.

 

“Their wishes came true, but so did mine,” she said.

 

I woke, startled; I was sweating through my pajamas. They clung to me like a thick, insulating layer of skin. Tangled in my sheets, I felt as though I’d entered some kind of summer-heat inferno.

 

I rose to open the window. It was still dark outside; a faint line of pink moved across the horizon. I could still see stars, fading along with the dusk. The breeze was harsh and cold, but it felt like an elixir against my damp skin.

 

I knew it wasn’t that warm inside.

 

 _Fire._  I checked my face in the mirror again but saw nothing.

 

I remembered a snatch of my dream, of the bodies crushed under the rubble: a glimpse of purple hair, a tiny body in a pink and white dress, and—

 

Sayori.

 

 _Her wish came true,_  I thought, remembering Monika’s words.

 

What wish? What had it been?

 

* * *

 

“You think it’s gonna be… y’know, weird today?”

 

Sayori and I walked to school as usual. The morning air was crisp and refreshing; other students chattered around us as we approached the high school. It felt like any other day—and yet, undoubtedly, our own realities were perturbed.

 

“Weird?” She looked at me. There were dark circles under her eyes. “What do you mean, Tomi?”

 

“I mean… because of Yuri.” I hugged my notebooks to my chest. “I mean, Jesus. She’s some kind of superhero and we have to just pretend nothing ever happened!”

 

“I guess.” Sayori shrugged. “But she told us not to say anything, so we can’t do that! She’s our friend, so we have to listen to her!”

 

 _Friend_. Was Yuri my friend? I didn’t really know her that well—as it turned out, even less than I thought I did. She was a nice girl, attentive—but shy. Painstakingly shy, to the point that I could barely compliment her without her stuttering or blushing. She was also leagues smarter than me, and sometimes her vocabulary went a little over my head.

 

And now she’d saved both me and Sayori’s lives. And she was a… magical girl. Which, despite her hurried explanation, I still felt strange about accepting as fact. Even though I’d seen it with my own eyes. Her wielding those knives, purple-streaked skirt, the violet gem in her hand.

 

I stopped in my tracks. Part of the dream came back to me in a harsh flash of flame-lined light.

 

Monika, palm outstretched, her gem glowing in her palm.

 

“Do you—” I spoke without thinking, and Sayori stopped, curious. “Do you think Monika and Natsuki know about this? Do you think…”

 

Sayori’s face tensed. I could tell she’d been considering this as well. She finished for me: “So you’re wondering if they’re magical girls too, huh?”

 

Relieved that she’d known what I meant, I nodded. Sayori looked thoughtful.

 

“Maybe we should ask.”

 

“Um… I don’t think—”

 

“Well, how will we ever know if we don’t?”

 

“Even if they are, do you think they’d tell us?” Monika was the club president. Far from some kind of cosplaying weirdo who fought paranormal monsters alone. And Natsuki… I felt embarrassed even thinking about asking her.

 

Sayori exhaled softly. “Maybe you’re right. But we have to find out!”

 

I couldn’t exactly disagree with her. I felt as though I needed to know, too. Besides…

 

My dreams… why was Monika in my dreams—especially when I knew so little about her?

 

I nodded, making a small noise of affirmation. It was time for the two of us to figure it out.

 

What was this literature club really about?

 

* * *

 

For once, I was the first person in the club. My last period had ended early, and I’d had nowhere else to be, so I decided to go ahead and enter the clubroom. The lights had been dimmed and the classroom door closed, though unlocked. I pushed my way in, curiosity suddenly taking hold of me.

 

Would there be something lying around that could tell me something about the other girls? Even just a loose scrap of paper, or something?

 

I set my bag next to the classroom door, figuring that whoever came in would know I was inside as soon as they saw it.

 

 _I’m not_ trying  _to snoop, after all,_ I thought, kneeling before the teacher’s desk. The top two drawers were locked, which made sense; I wasn’t trying to snoop on the instructor, after all. But I’d seen Monika use the bottom two before. Maybe she’d left something behind?

 

The third was empty besides a couple of colored pens. One was a replica of Monika’s favorite pen, the pink one with the heart on the lid. Other than that, there was nothing of note.

 

The last drawer was caught on something, but I managed to yank it open with a little elbow grease. There wasn’t much of note in the bottom drawer, either, but I did see a sticky note of some sort, folded in half at the bottom.

 

I opened it, smoothed the creases out. Written in pink gel were the words,  _“Fifth time’s the charm.”_  A heart was scribbled next to the note. It just looked like a doodle.

 

Except I recognized the writing. It was Monika’s.

 

“Hey, Tomi!”

 

I jerked upright, suddenly remembering where I was. I tucked the note into my blazer pocket and smiled. Monika peered at me from the entryway. She was smiling her typical sweet smile, but her posture looked stiff.

 

“Hi, Monika.” I stood, dusting my knees off. “Sorry! I didn’t hear you come in. I thought I lost an earring under the desk…”

 

She stared at me for a moment. Her expression felt like a faucet, turned to cold, dripping down my spine. Uncomfortably wet and cold.

 

Suddenly, she bent over, her expression bright. “Oh, sorry to hear that. Did you end up finding it?”

 

“No,” I admitted, brushing against my earlobe. “I think I may have lost it somewhere else. So I’ll just check my classes tomorrow.”

 

For a moment, Monika said nothing. Her expression remained the same, however. “How unfortunate. Well, anyway, I heard you had an interesting encounter with Yuri yesterday!”

 

Now I could feel my entire face freeze.

 

“Yuri? R-really?”

 

Monika stepped closer. “Don’t worry, Tomi. I’m not your enemy here.” She giggled, a sound like a bell ringing. “In fact, I—”

 

“Hi guys!” Sayori entered the clubroom. She beamed at both of us. “How are you guys? Ready to talk about the festival preparations?”

 

Momentarily relieved from Monika’s unflinching green stare, I relaxed and leaned against the teacher’s desk. Sayori didn’t look any different—at least, not at first glance. She seemed in much higher spirits than she’d been in the previous morning, which I was relieved of. Maybe she’d forgotten to eat breakfast or something.

 

“The festival! I’m so excited,” Monika said, turning towards Sayori. “Although I’m not sure how excited Natsuki and Yuri will be.”

 

“They’ll be fine,” Sayori said airily, waving one of her hands. “We’ll just have to find a way for them to enjoy it, too.”

 

My breath still hitched in my chest. But my mind was blank. Natsuki came into the room, her expression darker than normal. Feeling almost dizzy, I sat at my usual desk, somewhere in between everyone else’s, and tried to steady myself.

 

What had Monika been about to tell me? Why did I feel like I’d been caught in some kind of lie?

 

Yuri trailed in a few minutes after Natsuki. Like the smaller girl, her expression was different today, her posture tenser. It was obvious that something had happened between the two of them.

 

“Hi guys,” I offered.

 

I should have known better. Yuri nodded politely but kept her eyes trained on the wall to the left of her. There was nothing there but posters about biology, but she pretended as though they were incredibly interesting.

 

Natsuki scowled immediately. “What?” She practically barked. “Did you want something from me?”

 

“No,” I said, withdrawing. Natsuki glared at the opposite side of the room, towards the closet.

 

“Good. Because if you did…” she closed her eyes, still not directly addressing me, “…then I can’t help you.”

 

“Can’t help me with what?” I asked, confused.

 

She gritted her teeth. “Anything, anymore.”

 

I shrank away from her palpable anger, my index fingernail moving to my mouth immediately. I chewed it, feeling stung. I thought Natsuki and I had been becoming friends! Well, okay, not friends. Not even close to friends, in reality. But at least… I thought we’d been…

 

And Yuri! I looked back at her, but she remained silent. She’d saved us yesterday! We’d talked so long, and I’d thought…

 

I felt a hand on my shoulder.

 

I turned, expecting Sayori, but saw Monika instead. The ends of her hair ribbon tickled my shoulder.

 

“Perhaps you and I should speak outside, Tomi,” she said, her smile subdued.

 

Yuri stood, pushing her chair back. “I’ll come with you.”

 

In that instant, Natsuki exploded from her own chair, kicking it across the room. It hit the edge of the wall with a  _thud_. I started at her rage.

 

“Leave me out of this, then! I’m going home.” She pointed a finger at me, more expressive than I’d seen her since I’d met her. “But if you don’t—if you decide—”

 

“Leave it alone, Natsuki,” Monika said, her voice neutral. “I’m just going to talk.”

 

She looked at us, furious, then turned sharply. She picked up her things and banged them around as she did so. Purposefully, I imagined.

 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she hissed, shoving past us with all of her slight power.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> of course i'm writing fanfic instead of the things i'm supposed to be writing! haha!
> 
> if anyone is into weeb shit/anime op & ed covers, i urge you to check out amalee if you haven't already. she's the sexy female natewantstobattle and she's wonderful.
> 
> in any case, yupp! thx if you read!


	6. Hole in the Wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tomi and Sayori have to make a decision; Natsuki confronts Monika.

* * *

“I realize now, that I wasn't looking in. 

I was looking out.   
And he, on the other side, was looking in.”  


\--Monika, _Doki Doki Literature Club!_

* * *

 

I stared down the hallway, where Natsuki’s footsteps receded away from me and the other girls. They echoed, loudly, banging against the linoleum floor of my mind.

 

She’d looked at me so angrily, her lipstick-colored eyes narrow and filled with what looked like tiny silver tears. Tears of rage, most likely, though I still remained baffled as to why. What had I done? What had Monika said to her—or Yuri, for that matter?

 

Sayori sidled up beside me, our shoulders brushing. “What’s wrong with Natsuki?” She asked. I nudged her, winking.

 

“Why, you worried?”

 

“Yeah, a little bit.” Despite my teasing, I felt it, too. But there wasn’t time for us to worry about it much longer, because Monika was calling to us from within the clubroom.

 

“Don’t mind Natsuki,” she said, brushing a tendril of chestnut hair behind her shoulder. “She can be a little dramatic at times. Isn’t that right, Yuri?”

 

“That’s right.” Yuri looked uncomfortable, her arms locked behind her waist. I studied her. Although Yuri and Natsuki had never seemed to get along, Yuri's face wore a slightly pained expression.

 

“Well…” I glanced back at Monika, who was leaning casually against the teacher’s desk. Her smile curled towards her cheekbones. Despite my misgivings, she looked almost angelic; the sunlight streaming in through the window lit her silhouette and brushed her hair with burnished gold.

 

Shaking my head, I collected my thoughts. Even just her appearance was sufficient to distract me. “What did you want to talk to us about, Monika?”

 

Sayori sat at one of the desks behind us, looking bewildered.

 

“Oh, that!” Monika splayed her fingers in front of her, as though she were inspecting her manicure. I could see the ring, the heart symbol painted green on the middle nail. “Well! I heard that you two saw something you maybe weren’t supposed to see yesterday.”

 

I glanced at Yuri. She was studying the floor, a look of concentration on her face. “About—”

 

“—that Yuri’s a magical girl?” Sayori piped up. I resisted the urge to glare at her.

 

Monika didn’t seem upset, though. She nodded. “Right. Well. I guess I wanted to ask you two what you thought about it.”

 

 _What did we think about it?_ I put the tip of my fingernail into my mouth, resisting the urge to bite down. Truly... what could I say? That the concept was fantastical, somewhat terrifying, intriguing, storybook-esque? That I still didn’t fully understand any of it, despite Yuri’s patient explanation? That I now had to walk through a world where demons preyed on human emotion?

  
  
Where high school girls carried their lives in their pockets?

 

Sayori answered in my place. “I think it’s really neat! I mean, Yuri is saving people’s lives, which is awesome.”

 

Monika laughed gently; I thought she was likely humoring Sayori. “Well, there’s more to it than that, but you’re right. Yuri—and all of the magical girls that exist in this world—do save people’s lives.”

 

“It’s dangerous, though, isn’t it?” Yesterday. The blades of Yuri’s knives pushing wetly into the dandelion-headed monster. The amethyst she showed us: the source of her magical powers, and, she explained, her life force.

 

“It can be dangerous, yes.” Monika glanced at Yuri. “Yuri is an experienced magical girl, though. In fact… she’s the first one I met when I transferred to this city.”

 

Yuri nodded, her smile faint. “Monika is an older magical girl than all of us, though. And very skilled in battle. None of us here can compare, really.”

 

“All of us?” I thought of Natsuki, kicking her chair so that it flew across the room and skidded harshly against the tile. “So Natsuki is a magical girl too?”

 

“Yes,” Yuri and Monika said, almost in unison. Yuri glanced at her, then went on, “but she isn’t really… with us.”

 

“What does that mean? Does she not fight witches, like you guys do?”

 

“No, she does.” Monika waved her hand, as if to dismiss any further discussion of Natsuki. “In any case, I wanted to know what you two thought about the whole thing, because… well.” Her face flushed in what I thought might be excitement. “I’d be interesting in recruiting you.”

 

“Really?” Sayori exclaimed. She slammed her palms flat against the surface of her desk. “That’s amazing!”

 

“Sayori.” I rubbed my forehead. “Did you pay attention to anything they just said? I mean… you were really scared yesterday.” That much was true. The distorted world we’d stumbled into had rendered her speechless, stiff, a woodland creature before a blaring semi.

 

She hesitated briefly, then nodded. “That’s true. But it's... it's because I was scared for you, Tomi… that I wouldn’t be able to protect you. If I was a magical girl, though, I could have killed that witch just like Yuri did!”

 

Yuri chuckled. “Well, if you decide to make a contract, it may take time before you can kill witches that easily. And the one from yesterday wasn’t terribly dangerous, as far as they go.”

 

Monika shrugged. “Still, if you really wanted to become a magical girl, there are certain perks.”

 

I looked her way. She was toying with her hair ribbon, smiling to herself. “What kind of perks?”

 

“I can grant you one wish. Any wish you’d like.” She raised her eyes to meet mine, and I was momentarily paralyzed by their green intensity. “That wish will be collateral for the powers and duties you’ll receive.”

 

“A wish?” Sayori looked thoughtful. “What kind of wish?”

 

“Please believe me when I say that it can be _any_ wish you’d like.”

 

“What did you guys wish for?” I thought it was a reasonable question, but their expressions suggested I'd misspoke.

 

Yuri looked stricken. “I—we can discuss that later.” She tugged at the sleeves of her blazer, almost instinctively. She saw that I noticed and tried to smile. “I didn’t have much of a choice, so all I can ask of you two is that you choose wisely.”

 

Monika nodded. “That’s right. If you decide to make a contract with me, it is permanent, so please consider it carefully. If you’d like, you can accompany the two of us on a witch hunt. Or, if you’d prefer, I might be able to convince Natsuki to take you along… but that’s doubtful.”

 

I recalled Natsuki’s furious expression. I, too, doubted that that would happen.

 

“What do you think, Tomi?” Sayori folded her hands in her lap, concentrating her my face.

 

“Who—me?”

 

 _It’s not like I can deny that it sounds appealing,_ I thought. _It’s dangerous, yes, but… wouldn’t it be nice to actually make a difference?_

My life as it was currently had proved to be terribly unremarkable. I woke up in the morning, went to school with Sayori, daydreamed through my classes. I scraped by each semester, my grades the definition of mediocre. My parents both worked; we had dinner together most nights, where we made small talk and pretended to take interest in one another’s lives.

 

When I examined it like that, from an outsider’s perspective, it appeared incredibly bleak—so bleak that it actually frightened me.

 

 _Maybe I could use a little danger,_ I thought, chewing at a fingernail. _Maybe I could do something for someone else, and it would change things for me, too._

“I… wouldn’t mind going with you guys on a few hunts,” I said, almost shocked that I was saying it. “I’d like to see what it’s like.”

 

“Me too! If Tomi’s going, then I’m going, for sure.” Sayori beamed and launched herself at me, hugging me around my waist.

 

Yuri smiled, looking faintly pleased. “Very well. If you’d like, you can accompany me tonight.”

 

I looked at Monika. She was staring through me, at Sayori, and her smile was gone. Her face had frozen into an expression I’d never seen on her before.

 

Anger. No—malice?

 

It dissipated as soon as she noticed me looking her way. “Great! I’ll let Yuri show you the ropes. You know where to find me, if you decide to make a contract.”

 

“You aren’t going to come with us?” I tilted my head. Something was off. Of course, I was always thinking that something was off, but… “You just said you would.”

 

“I will, but tonight I have things to do.” She laughed. “It’s just for tonight, though, so don’t worry. Besides, Yuri will be able to protect you.”

 

“I’ll do my best.” Yuri turned toward us and nodded her affirmation.

 

* * *

 

Night had fallen over the city. Despite the array of glowing neon lights, the stars were visible, clinging with tiny silvery fingers to the inky fabric of the sky.

 

Monika, a red velvet cape streaming around her body, stood on the roof of an office building, her eyes on the city streets. She could make out three shapes moving slowly, fingers interlocked, from her point of view. She could also see the tangled mire of the witch’s labyrinth they were walking towards.

 

“Spying, Monika?”

 

Monika didn't bother to turn around. “Hello, Natsuki. I didn’t expect to see you here after your outburst at the club meeting today.”

 

“I’m just here in case Yuri decides to get herself killed. After all, it’s not like you’ll help her.”

 

Monika turned to face Natsuki. The younger girl stood defiantly, slight of frame, but slightly healthier-looking in her ruffled pink skirt and high-heeled white boots. A white spear, decorated with fabric wings and a red, gleaming heart, was strapped to her back. Ribbons whipped around her. She hardly made an imposing figure.

 

“Worried about Yuri, hmm? That’s not like you, Natsuki. At least, it’s not like you to be so open about it.”

 

“I know what this is.” Natsuki stomped the heel of one of her boots. “You’re going to wait until Yuri can’t save them, and then you’re gonna swoop in with your contracts—”

 

“That’s enough,” Monika said; her patience, usually inexhaustible, was gone. Natsuki had that talent. “I’m not intending on letting anyone get hurt. If you don’t think Yuri can handle herself, then that’s on you.”

 

“I didn’t—” she huffed, pulling away. “Okay. Fine. But I just want you to know that I’m onto you.”

 

“Fine.” Monika sat, letting her legs dangle over the edge of the roof. The concrete was cold and rough against the exposed skin of her thighs. “Do what you must, Natsuki. That’s all I’m doing.”

 

She glanced over her shoulder, but Natsuki had left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some artists have depicted my girls in their magical girl uniforms, so i'll upload probably next update :]


	7. The Cost of Kindness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri takes the other two girls on a witch hunt.

* * *

"A person becomes naïve if they're too kind. Careless if they're too bold. And no matter how hard you try to protect others, there's no gratitude. Those who can't comprehend such things aren't fit to be Magical Girls."

—Homura Akemi, Puella Magi Madoka Magica

* * *

 

As the shadows fell, my confidence began to join them alongside us in the crevices of the alleyways we stalked. The safety lamps and streetlights were lit, providing lucid pools of amber to guide our footsteps. A car alarm shrieked in the distance, but even the knowledge that others were nearby could not comfort me.

 

After all, they were merely prey for the demon nesting in this city tonight.

 

Yuri led the way, her soul gem bared and glowing to light our path. Her hair drifted behind her. To conserve energy, she’d explained before our “hunt,” she used the gem to detect malicious magic and would transform into a magical girl at the last available second.

 

“Every second I’m using magic myself takes away from my energy,” she had told us, a stern expression on her face. “Otherwise, you might see magical girls in costume more often. It is safer that way, but you also run the risk of putting yourself into a bad situation.”

 

Sayori and I had shared a lingering look, both titillated at being allowed access to this mystical world and frightened at what that could mean for us.

 

After school, sure enough, Yuri had guided us to the bowels of the city; Sayori and I, chancing our parents’ kindness, had decided to follow her without going home first. It was a long walk back to the suburbs, and we, too, decided to conserve our energy. You never knew what might happen, after all… and I, for one, wanted to be as prepared as I could be.

 

Sayori still seemed energized, excited at the prospect of watching Yuri annihilate a witch. I supposed I was excited, too, but I was having a hard time swallowing my fears. I remembered that the witches were not inherently logical; they bent time and space around their labyrinths, contaminated human spirits, corrupted inanimate objects. Anything could happen.

 

“Wait.” Yuri stopped, eyes trained on the ground near a dumpster. Although bags of trash overflowed onto the ground, she seemed to be pointing to something between them. “See it?”

 

I strained my eyes. “I don’t see anything.”

 

Sayori gasped. “Wait! It’s lit up a little!”

 

I looked again. I wouldn’t have described it as “lit up,” but it was… the air around it seemed to be moving in waves, as though it radiated heat. I would never have noticed it if the other girls hadn’t pointed it out to me.

 

“How did you know it was here?” I asked, glancing at Yuri. She gestured towards her soul gem. It was brilliant with neon-like light, brighter than it had been before.

 

 _So their own magic reacts to the witch’s magic,_ I thought, in awe. The existence of magical girls and witches coincided so well; it did truly seem as though they had been forged out of magic in order to defeat them. They truly had a purpose.

 

I thought, briefly, about what that might be like—to have others rely on you, to have a reason to get out of bed every morning. The thought excited me.

 

“We’re going to enter the labyrinth now,” Yuri warned us. “Stay close.”

 

We both nodded, holding hands. In a flash of her violet light, we were no longer in the city we knew; the alley full of trash had turned into a sinister corridor.

 

But, interestingly, it was still filled with trash. Discarded food containers, crumpled newspapers, and broken glass littered the walkway. Yuri crunched a sliver of beer bottle under her heel, but she simply kept walking. “Don’t linger,” she said in a low voice, glancing back at us. “The witch is active.”

 

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” I muttered. The trash had turned to more personalized items, I noticed: pieces of tattered clothing, dismembered dolls, a teddy bear missing one limb and one button eye. Soon, the labyrinth was lined with what simply seemed like broken toys.

 

“Does it collect toys?” Sayori asked, and I shrugged. “Or—”

 

Before she could finish, one of the dolls snapped its head around; it made a cracking sound that echoed sickeningly around us. Its painted blue eyes stared blankly, its cupid’s bow turning sinister.

 

I grabbed Sayori’s hand, alarmed. As I did, the other dolls and teddy bears creaked slowly, turning to look at us. Yuri stiffened, clutching her soul gem against her chest.

 

“She knows we’re here,” she said. “It’s time.”

 

In an iridescent flourish of light, Yuri’s drab school uniform gave way to her flowing white skirt, and her soul gem gleamed at us from the dress’s choker-style neckline. “Don’t go near those things, okay? They may be the witch’s minions.”

 

“Do they all have minions?” I asked, pulling Sayori along with me.

 

“I think most of them probably do. They’re for the witch’s protection.” Yuri fingered the hilt of one of her knives. “Not that it will do this one any good.”

 

The dolls encircling us began to make a garbled sound, the sound of a doll left in the rain for too long: “ _Maaaamaaa!_ ”

 

As if they had called her, a doll the size of a human child fell from the ceiling, right in between Yuri and Sayori and me. It crawled on all fours, its joints creaking in plastic protest. Its face was a child’s drawing; its eyes were black, beady, smudged with cheap black crayon; they moved with scribbled motions around its face. Its mouth was a red scribble with no discernible shape.

 

“Not so fast.” Yuri unsheathed the knives at her waist and brandished them at the doll. “You two find somewhere to hide!”

 

I tried to will my legs to move, but they ignored me; the doll was staring at me, face filled with off-color wax. Its out-of-socket plastic limbs were angled towards Sayori and me.

 

“Come _on_ , Tomi!” Sayori shoved me to the side, into a pile of dolls. I could hear Yuri’s blades clashing dully against the witch’s plastic body.

 

I writhed against the stiff plastic toys under me, twisting so that I could watch Yuri fight. Her knives had made slits in the doll’s torso, but to my dismay, the same kind of scribbled black crayon that made up its eyes began to flow out of its body. The two wounds revealed waxy, shifting claws that erupted from the witch's insides; they reached out to Yuri and swiped.

 

“Yuri!” Sayori cried, covering her mouth. Yuri’s thigh bore ragged red tears, and the waist of her dress had been torn away on one side, revealing a peek of scarlet.

 

“I’m fine.” She seemed to re-evaluate the witch, who began to crawl toward her again, limbs convulsing, face distorting.

 

“Maybe—what the fuck?” I’d started to raise my hand when a tiny plastic fist clenched around my wrist. Shocked, I realized that the still-faced doll had, in fact, grabbed me.

 

“These things—they _are_ minions,” Sayori cried, jumping up; one of them grabbed her ankle, and she stumbled backward, falling flat on her back.

 

“Hold on, you two,” Yuri said, her voice slightly strained.

 

“What _is_ this?”

 

The dolls lining the corridor burst into a bloody red mass; only viscera remained where the plastic hand had grabbed me.

 

Natsuki stood behind us, brandishing a spear that glowed softly. A pink gem gleamed from a gap in her choker—her soul gem. In a stark difference to her school uniform, she wore a ruffled pink dress, an enormous red ribbon fluttering behind her. It billowed behind her like butterfly wings.

 

“Natsuki?” Yuri narrowly dodged a swipe from the crayon-faced witch.

 

“Can you kill _any_ witches on your own? You’re getting soft, Yuri.” Natsuki, fearless, plunged her spear into the witch’s unsuspecting back; it screamed once, high and girlish, and then withered around the weapon. Its contorted body was no longer recognizable.

 

Yuri made a face and looked our way. “Are you two alright?”

 

“I’m fine,” I said, still stricken by Natsuki’s appearance. As usual, she was adorable, but now she had a mystic, ethereal quality that I would never have anticipated her to possess. Like Yuri, who radiated mysticism even in her daily life, Natsuki had become more goddess than human in her magical girl form.

 

And, I supposed, they _were_ more godlike than human—weren’t they?

 

Sayori, scrabbling around in the dismantled doll parts around us, helped me to my feet. “Natsuki! That was _so cool!_ And…” her eyes practically sparkled as she crooned, “You look _soo cute!!!_ ”

 

Natsuki pouted immediately and crossed her arms. “ _Cute_? Was it _cute_ when I stabbed that witch and saved your asses?”

 

“Only because it was you doing it.” Sayori grinned; I knew she was only trying to push Natsuki’s buttons. Nonetheless, I sheepishly had to agree.

 

“Thank you, Natsuki,” I offered. “I was pretty startled by the dolls…”

 

“Didn’t they tell you it’d be dangerous?” She looked at me, her gemstone eyes hard and flinty. “Yuri may act like she knows everything, but even she can’t protect you if you don’t pay attention.”

 

“It’s not their fault.” Yuri started towards us but jerked awkwardly. She put her hand to her waist; it came away red. “I forgot about that,” she murmured.

 

“Oh, Yuri! Are you okay?” Sayori rushed to her side, although Yuri only nodded, looking at the ground as she did so.

 

“I’m fine. I can heal myself.”

 

“Well. Normally I’d snatch the grief seed right now and call it a night… but it looks like you might need it.” Natsuki plucked a tiny iron object from the ruins of the witch. She eyed it with longing, and then sighed and tossed it to Yuri.

 

She swiped it from the air, still looking embarrassed. “You don’t have to do that. You killed it, after all.” I noticed that she was blushing, but only faintly; it was hard to see under the amber glow of the streetlights.

 

Natsuki smiled, catlike. A rare sight. “I know I don’t have to do it. Heal yourself up before something else comes along and tears you to shreds.” She looked at Sayori and me, her smile disappearing quickly, like mist in a gale. “As for you idiots—I hope you take what you saw here to heart. If even a seasoned magical girl like Yuri has problems facing enemies alone, imagine what will happen to you two.”

 

Although I'd begun to agree with Natsuki, Sayori looked unsure. Her brow furrowed, she seemed to consider this. “But… we won’t be alone. Tomi and I will be together. And we can help you and Yuri too!”

 

Natsuki laughed—it wasn’t a nice sound. “Oh yeah—is that what you think? That we can be some big, happy family? What a fucking joke. I don’t need rookies to drag me down.” She started to walk away, but she threw one last comment over her shoulder:

 

“Yuri. Consider if _this_ is worth your health or your life. I won’t keep bailing you out... and if you think Monika will, then you're just as stupid as they are.”

 

She strutted away from us, as confident as ever. Yuri gritted her teeth audibly. “She can be such an arrogant brat,” she murmured, almost to herself. Her blush still remained. I wasn’t sure if Natsuki had caused it or if it was Yuri’s shame at having to be rescued.

 

“Well, she did save us,” Sayori said.

 

“I would have been fine without her. And so would the two of you.” Yuri straightened, wincing again. “Let’s get out of here. Hopefully, you two won’t be in trouble with your parents for staying out with me so late.”

 

I waved my hand dismissively. “Nah. If anything it’ll be a conversation starter.”


	8. Call Me. I'll Be Waiting.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri's wish is revealed. Tomi and Sayori meet certain danger.

* * *

"So if you ever feel like dying for the sake of the universe, call me. I'll be waiting.”

— Kyubey, _Puella Magi Madoka Magica_

* * *

  
  
“Everything okay, Tomi?”

 

Monika slid into the desk in front of me, startling me from a daydream I’d been having. The sections of her hair that weren’t tied back fluttered about her chest. I could smell her perfume, with how close she sat. Flowery, with an acid bite.

 

“Y-yeah,” I said. “I’m just thinking, I guess. I must have spaced out. Sorry about that.”

 

I shrank from her gaze, which was, all things considering, perfectly pleasant. Although I didn’t like to admit it, I still felt awkward around Monika. Truthfully, I considered myself closest—still—to Sayori first. Yuri was second, and, despite her hostile attitude, Natsuki had to be third. Monika remained ruthlessly intimidating to me.

 

…Which, I thought, was unfair of me. Monika had never done anything to me to cause me to feel that way, had she?

 

 _Except appear in your dreams,_ I remembered. _Except reveal herself to be some kind of magical girl gatekeeper._

“Don’t worry,” she said, giggling. “I wasn’t teasing you or anything. Just making sure you were okay. You’ve had a rough week, you know?”

 

“I guess that’s true.” I sank back down into my desk. “I haven’t been sleeping much.”

 

“Staying out late with Yuri?” Monika glanced at the girl in question, who was writing something in a small leather journal. She seemed oblivious to the rest of us, which wasn’t unusual for her. “How has that been going?”

 

I considered the question. “I think it’s been going okay,” I said, slowly. “I’m… kind of hesitant… about…”

 

Monika let the word linger in the air between us before speaking again. Her face had become serious.

 

“You have to be careful about a decision like this. Have you thought about what you’d wish for?”

 

I nodded, but I felt sure she could tell that I hadn’t—not really, not in the way I was supposed to.

 

“I suggest you ask Yuri and Natsuki what they wished for. Perhaps it might give you an idea.”

 

“I will.” I studied her for a moment. Serene, beautiful Monika. A contract-maker, to be sure, but also…

 

Was she not a magical girl herself? At least partially?

 

“What did _you_ wish for, Monika?”

 

Her smile froze, but otherwise she remained unperturbed. She stretched, hair ribbon fluttering about her face. “My wish situation is a bit more complicated. It would take me too long to explain it to you right now, but if you make a contract, then I’ll share it with you.”

 

Secretive. I bit my bottom lip. “Oh. Okay. I guess that makes sense.” _It doesn’t at all. Not even a little bit._

 

“In any case. I wanted to talk to you about the festival that’s coming up next week.”

 

The change in topic caused me a slight headache, twinging just behind my eyes. Would I ever get used to living with one foot in a world filled with magic and another in my old, mundane reality?  
  
I closed my eyes, thinking. Ah, yes… the festival. A day the school reserved entirely for students to go to different club meetings, eat snacks others had prepared, chat with friends, and relax before exams started up. We all looked forward to it every year. At least, I had every _other_ year. This year, I was actually in a club…

 

Which meant I’d have to participate in something.

 

“Oh, right. What were you thinking?”

 

As though she were some kind of poltergeist, Sayori materialized behind me, making me jump. “We were thinking of doing a poetry reading!”

 

I scowled. “Are you serious?” Not only did I have to write another poem, but I’d have to perform it on stage—in front of a bunch of… well… normal people?

 

I tried to correct myself mid-thought. Normal wasn’t exactly the correct way to put it. I considered myself “normal”—not in either a positive or negative way; just that I considered myself the definition of average and belonged to very few cliques. Sayori was my self-proclaimed best friend, but she was absent from school too often to be considered part of any friend groups. Yuri was definitely one of the loners in our class, and Natsuki was a grade below mine, so I didn’t know what her social standing was.

 

Monika, though, was “above” normal. In the “popular” category. So I rationalized to myself that it would be okay to be seen reading poems with this particular group of people.

 

Socially, at least. I’d still have to psych myself up about it.

 

“You don’t have to read one you’ve written,” Monika said. “I can tell you’re still pretty nervous about sharing your work. Which is totally normal. I just thought it might be a fun opportunity to show everyone what we’re about.”

 

“Do Yuri and Natsuki know about this?” I remembered their aversions to sharing their poems. Yuri’s shyness, Natsuki’s defensiveness. Had they really agreed to this?

 

“They… aren’t thrilled,” Monika admitted, laughing. She seemed pleased about that, somehow. “But they agreed to do it.”

 

Curious, I turned around to look at the girls in question. Yuri had put her journal aside and was reading, her long hair covering most of her face in a silken sheet. Natsuki was flipping through a manga at her own desk with exaggerated gestures; her expression was one of irritation.

 

“Huh. Well, if everyone else has agreed, then I guess I’ll go along with it.”

 

“Yay!” Sayori bent over and hugged me at the waist. Surprised, I tried to pull away from her grasp.

 

“Can you not, Sayori?” I felt my face fill with heat; I tried to shove her away from me, but to no effect.

 

Monika backed away from us, her face like a statue’s. “I’m so glad you two are good friends. It makes everything so much easier!” She put her hands behind her back, face like a Noh theater mask.

 

Sayori pulled away, blinking. “What do you mean?”

 

“I mean…” she brushed a lock of hair behind her shoulder. “Just that I’m glad my club members are getting along so well! It makes it so much more pleasant to be here. Especially considering… well, you know.” She flicked her wrist toward the back of the room, where Yuri and Natsuki were reading.

 

“I think they secretly _do_ like each other.” Sayori covered her mouth with her hand, giggling. “Natsuki says she hates Yuri, but she gave her the grief seed and saved her life… so how much could she really hate her?”

 

“Natsuki did that?” Monika blinked, surprised. “That’s… certainly interesting.”

 

“And Yuri was so weird about it. I think they could be friends if they really wanted to.” Sayori’s voice, too loud, as usual, seemed to reach Yuri. She looked up at us, frazzled, and then back down, further concealing her face.

 

“Sayori. _Volume,_ ” I reminded her; it was something I had to do often, especially when she got excited about something. Sometimes she really did act like a child that I had to reprimand. “I’m pretty sure Yuri heard you.”

 

“Good! She should know that she doesn’t have to hide her secret love for Natsuki,” Sayori practically sang.

 

Monika chuckled. “Well. Regardless, I think it’s important for both of you to be thinking about two things: the festival, and your wishes.” She leaned closer, conspiratorial. “Like I said. Ask those two what they wished for… but be prepared for surprising answers.”

 

With that, she pulled away.

 

* * *

 

Sayori and I, for the fifth night in a row, followed Yuri through the city streets. We were in the central area today, in a well-lit area with a botanical garden and couples relaxing around the midtown fountains. Yuri concealed her soul gem with her hand, keeping an eye on any changes in light disturbance.

 

I felt more comfortable with witch hunting at this point; nothing terribly dangerous had happened since that first fight, and Yuri, seemingly out of a fierce determination to prevent it from happening again, had fought every witch and familiar with bloodthirsty vigor. She often looked haggard by the time she’d finished her hunt, but I could hardly fault her for it.

 

I expected that tonight would go similarly. Yuri would slaughter a witch, Sayori and I would watch, spellbound, from a corner of the labyrinth, and that would be the end of it. But I could tell Yuri was becoming somewhat impatient with the two of us. We were essentially burdens, I supposed, making her drag us around while she was supposed to be saving people.

 

If we were magical girls, after all, we could be helping her. We could split the city into sections, or simply go on fights together and divvy up the grief seeds.

 

Before I made that choice, though…

 

“Yuri.” I trotted forward to catch up with her. “I wanted to ask you something.”

 

“What is it?” She peeked at her soul gem; its color hadn’t changed at all.

 

“What was your wish?”

 

Sayori inched closer to us, equally anxious to hear the response.

 

Yuri slowed to a halt, her face creasing in worry. “Monika told you to ask me, didn’t she?”

 

I wasn’t sure how to respond, and thankfully, for once in her life, Sayori said nothing.

 

Yuri sighed. “I see. I’m afraid my wish was sort of an anomaly. I made it because I had to. I was going to die if I didn’t make it, and I didn’t want my life to end. Not like that, anyway.”

 

Sayori, eyes round as coins, asked, “What happened?”

 

Yuri tugged at her sleeves reflexively. “I have a dangerous habit. It’s normally… harmless. But one day, I made a mistake. I’d gone too far. Way too far. There was no one around to help me. I would have died if it weren’t for Monika. And so I wished for my life—and that I could continue my hobby without risk of ever coming close to death again.”

 

“What kind of hobby—” Sayori started to ask, but I gave her a look that I hoped communicated that I’d kill her if she kept talking.

 

“In any case… even if Monika can seem strange, I truly owe her my life.” Yuri smiled, but her face was paler than normal; she seemed distressed at having revealed this secret about herself.

 

I couldn’t blame her. _What a horrible situation,_ I thought, glancing—without meaning to—at Yuri’s arms. I couldn’t judge her, either; what did I know about it? Admittedly, the idea was a little gruesome to me…

 

But Yuri was so smart, so beautiful. Even if she felt lonely, did she really think that was the only way to find relief? Or was it something besides that?

 

“I’m glad she did,” I said before I could stop myself. Yuri looked surprised at my admission. “You’re an incredible person, and I’m lucky to have you as a friend.”

 

“I…” she turned her face away, her speech freezing, and I realized after a moment that she was crying. It was silent, soft, but I could see a hint of wetness gleaming from her chin. “That’s such a nice thing to say, Tomi. Why are you saying nice things to me?”

 

“We care about you, Yuri!” Sayori reached for her hand, customarily touchy. Yuri looked at her, expression gentle and oddly tolerant.

 

“You don’t know how lovely that is to hear.” But when she said it, she was looking at me.

 

My heart fluttered. Her eyes, still damp from her moment of crying, had become intense, limpid pools of dark velvet. I found it hard to look away. Had Yuri ever looked at me like that before—at anyone?

  
  
_Is she…_

  
  
“Hey—guys?”

 

The spell, however intoxicating, had been broken. I snapped my head to where Sayori was staring. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Look.” She pointed across the park, to where the fountain bubbled. There was a person staggering across the cobblestone—and I do mean staggering. Their walk was disjointed, creepily limping along like a phantom in a horror movie. “What’s wrong with them?”

 

Yuri wiped at her eyes, her former efficient demeanor returning. “Look at their neck, just below the ear.”

 

Under the streetlight’s bronze bath, I could just barely make out some kind of intricate blue tattoo.

 

“That’s a witch’s kiss,” Yuri said. Sure enough, her soul gem was glowing, casino-bright in her hands. “They’re possessed. The witch is feeding off of them. If we don’t step in soon, they’ll die—probably by suicide.”

 

Sayori looked at her, face troubled. “They’re going to kill themselves?”

 

“If we don’t do something now, then yes,” Yuri said. She glanced at me. “Let’s go. She’ll lead us to the labyrinth, and we can take action there.”

 

I nodded, picking up the pace. The woman in front of us jerked forward, away from the lit confines of the public street and into the shadowy corners of the garden. Yuri held her arm out in front of us to block our path.

 

“This is it,” she said. “You two take care of her. Make sure she doesn’t have access to weapons or anything like that. I’ll make quick work of the witch.”

 

“Okay,” Sayori and I said, voices ringing and hollow with fear.

 

As Yuri headed into the grove, the two of us sprinted in the opposite direction to catch up to the woman. Her walking had slowed, though it had possibly become more erratic; she was zombielike, puppet-like. She still wore her work clothes; it made me wonder if the witch had lured her straight from her office building.

 

“Do you see anything on her?” She didn’t seem to have any weapons, I couldn’t tell for sure.

  
  
“Not really.” Sayori reached for my arm. “But maybe the witch is leading her somewhere where it will be easier to die?”

 

“Like where?”

  
  
“A building to jump from? Somewhere where there are dangerous chemicals?” She shrugged. “There are a lot of ways to do it, you know.”

  
  
“Yeah? How do you know that?” I looked at her critically. Her face was clenched in determination, but something about the way she was handling this situation was strange to me. My best friend didn’t know anything about suicide. She had more zest for life than anyone I’d ever met, for God’s sake!

 

But she brushed me off. “I just do. The internet exists, you know.” She clutched at my arm, pulling me forward. “Come on! We can’t let her get away!”

 

Out of nowhere, it seemed, the woman in front of us collapsed on her hands and knees. When we reached her, I was immediately alarmed; she was shaking uncontrollably, not from cold, but from what seemed like fear or panic. Her eyes were rolled back; I could see nothing but the whites.

  
  
“Miss! Are you okay?” Sayori knelt with her, grabbing for her hands. “Please, you’re safe now!”

 

“Why did she stop here?” I asked, glancing around. “What’s here?”

 

We were far enough off trail to where I could only see a dim glow above the trees; the safety lights struggled to reach us through the dense grove. The trail had all but disappeared, and the moon was a narrow sickle in the sky above us.

 

I felt chilled myself. Yuri had said she’d found the witch in the other direction, but the air—

 

“Sayori,” I said, panic rising inside me, “I think the witch is hatching here!”

 

The realization caused her to stand upright; she stumbled and barely caught herself. “But Yuri’s on the other side of the garden! What are we going to do?”

 

A single beat. That’s when the air seemed to open like a yawning mouth behind me with a sound like a splash. In a brilliant, flashing glow of blue light, I felt myself pulled underneath the plane of existence we currently walked upon. My lungs filled with what felt like water, and Sayori and the other woman blurred before me.

 

“ _Tomi!_ ” She reached for me, but I couldn’t reach back; my arm floated meaninglessly through air like I’d been shoved under the surface of a lake. Too slow, hindered.

 

A binding current yanked me away from her, downward, choking, and writhing in blind panic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyone who gives this story a chance is a demigod and anyone who comments is a god.
> 
> love y'all. i'm editing some of the details i fucked up in the previous chapters [stuff like the fingernails, the soul gems, etc.]
> 
> in any case, thank you so much!!!


	9. I Trust You Too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sayori makes a choice.

* * *

“I look above. The sky is blue. 

It's a secret, but I trust you too.” _  
  
_ \--Sayori, _Doki Doki Literature Club!_  


* * *

Anyone shoved under the water’s surface against their will experiences the same involuntary struggle, the same desperate clambering for air as their lungs shrink inside of them.

 

I flailed, panic setting in as the surface closed above me. Sayori’s face disappeared from my vision; everything around me pulsed with a wet, sickening rush. I clawed at the space in front of my eyes, but my fingers slid slowly through like a dull knife through thick, cold oil. I was afraid to try and breathe.

  
  
I’d read once—somewhere—that the best thing to do when you were drowning and had no hope for survival was to take a deep breath. Swallow the water. It would save you from the torture of holding your breath, of anticipating a brutal death by suffocation. I’d read that it would shock your brain and body, cutting off your air supply quickly, and you could die with some peace.

  
  
Everything was clear around me. There were bubbles flowing around me in thick streams, and I could see something writhing in the darkness below me. _Something._

  
  
Sharklike. Predatory. My throat began to close up further. _Can I really do it?_ I thought almost dreamily about the ease of opening my mouth, letting myself inhale the thick watery depths around me, and drifting down into the witch’s mouth below me.

  
  
It would be so much easier, wouldn’t it? I always thought I’d choose an easy death over a horrible one. But I found myself resisting, my face purpling, my body struggling against my mind. _Fight,_ it seemed to be screaming at me. I tried to swim upwards—where the bubbles were heading—but my body barely moved.

  
  
_This is how I die,_ I thought, my body flushed with adrenaline that twisted uselessly inside me. _There’s really nothing I can do to get out of here. My shitty witch hunting has caught up with me._

The witch, a shadowy figure below my feet, began to shift like a slippery sea creature. It thrust itself upwards, tentacles writhing; I recoiled when one brushed my leg. It felt like you’d imagine: vaguely thick, slimy, uncomfortable with its alien texture. It knotted around my ankle, ready to drag me.

  
  
_If it eats me, maybe it’ll be quicker,_ I thought, willing myself to fight the visceral disgust.

  
  
I couldn’t help but pull away from it, though; and as I did, I saw a limp black piece of limb floating away from me. It was severed, an arrow covered in bright light having destroyed it.

  
  
_Who…?_

 __  
  
A new body had crashed into the watery depths beside me. Her hair, short and golden-pink, shot up around guileless blue eyes. Her hands were covered by white gloves that sported blue wings; her skirt flared around her legs. She brandished a white crossbow, decorated deftly with blue lace-like patterns.

  
  
“Sayori?” I tried to say, but my lungs filled rapidly with fluids as I did.

  
  
She looked at me, confident. She deftly floated through the space-like darkness, grabbing me in one hand; in an upward thrust of power, the two of us surfaced into our own realm, oxygen exploding almost painfully into my lungs.

  
  
I hacked wetly; water—at least, I thought it was water—forcefully flew from my lungs. I grabbed my throat as if to force the rest of it out, but ended up coughing endlessly instead. The fact that I was alive had hardly registered with me. Nor had Sayori’s new appearance, the weapon dangling from one gloved hand.

  
  
“Rest here,” she said, her voice gentle. She brushed my cheek; the silk of her glove felt almost dry. “I’ll finish this witch.”

  
  
I fell to the ground, limp as a ragdoll; I couldn’t seem to bring any more water out. Deliriously, I wanted to beg Sayori to come back, to stay with me, but nothing came out.

  
  
“No need for that,” came another voice, lower, calmer. “It’s made its escape.”

  
  
My eyes threatened to close, but not before Monika came into view—but not Monika as I’d ever seen her before. I struggled to sit up, choking up a mouthful of water onto my breasts as I did so. Monika’s hair, as ever, streamed behind her in its auburn glory, as well as a scarlet cape. It was fastened at her throat with an emerald brooch—her soul gem. It matched her eyes, which burned down at me from her otherwise serene face.

  
  
I wanted to speak again, suddenly alarmed as I realized, belatedly, what was happening.

  
  
Sayori had made the contract!

  
  
Sayori pulled away from me, looking disheartened at Monika’s words. I drank her in again, her short-cropped hair dripping into her eyes, her winged gloves. _Sayori, why?_

  
  
She seemed to understand the question on my face. “I had to, Tomi,” she said, smiling sheepishly. “I couldn’t let you die. And Yuri was gone. I was just lucky Monika happened to be nearby.”

  
  
“Lucky indeed.” Monika put a black-gloved hand on Sayori’s shoulder. Her expression was unreadable. “Sayori has a lot of potential as a magical girl, I think.”

  
  
“I couldn’t finish the witch, though,” she said, seemingly forlorn.

  
  
“Not to worry,” Monika assured her. “There are four of us now.” She smiled, meeting my gaze. I grabbed at my arms, textured with the chill in the night air. My clothes were still plastered to my body, but I managed to find my voice.

  
  
“Where _did_ Yuri go?”

  
  
Monika reached for me, pulling me to my feet. I felt light-headed but otherwise fine; maybe I’d gotten all of the water out of my lungs after all. “There was a false alarm. Some kind of magic energy led her away from the witch itself. I haven’t caught up with her yet, but I’m thinking it was a familiar.”

  
  
“What great luck,” I murmured. “If it hadn’t happened, then Sayori…”

  
  
My best friend reached for my hands and clasped them in hers; they were as cold as mine were. She looked at me, face begging me to understand, but I felt alienated by her. Her clothes, the gem gleaming from the top of her hand, the sadness behind her blue eyes—everything about her was different, and it made me wary.

  
  
_She’s still the same person,_ I thought, resisting the urge to pull away from her. _Not to mention she just saved your life, idiot._

 __  
  
Sayori tightened her grip on my hands. “I did it for you,” she said, her smile weak. “You believe me, right?”

  
  
“Of course, but… I wish you hadn’t.” I felt tired all of a sudden, the day’s events catching up to me at once. “You should never have given your soul for my life.”

  
  
“Why? What better use of it is there?”

  
  
Strange question… “What do you mean, Sayori? What does that mean?”

  
  
Monika smiled brightly from Sayori’s side. “We should get going, right? Tomi looks exhausted, and you should get your rest, too, Sayori. The festival is coming up, and we’ll probably have to go and find that witch tomorrow. Everyone should rest up!”

  
  
I looked at her, then nodded. Sayori dropped my hands. They hung limply at my side.

  
  
What more could I say? She’d given her life for mine. That made me just as responsible for her as she felt she was for me. And the thought made me so goddamn _tired_.

  
  
I’d spend the rest of both of our lives caring for her, it seemed.


	10. Is That a Selfish Act?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tomi feels the dynamics in the club have shifted.

* * *

One day, it will come true  
That wish you have inside you  
To save the one that you love  
(Is that a selfish act?)  
  
It will capture your heart  
This love born under the stars  
You’ll say things you’ve never heard  
(Just how will you react?)

 

\--“Magia,” AmaLee [ _English vers._ ]

* * *

 

The ceiling fan whirred listlessly above me. My bed felt uncomfortable, the sheets clinging to my skin although my body felt cold. The sky outside my bedroom window was blank, grayish-white, like some kind of demonic eyeball. Watching me. Judging me.

 

I was sick of judgment.

 

I sat up, pulling my hair around my face. It was a Yuri-like gesture, but my hair was shorter, less dense, and brown, plain. Plain like everything else about me and my life.  
  
  
_Until now._ I held my hands out in front of me, studying them. Studying the nails. They were still clean, if chewed and somewhat uneven; they remained unpainted. They’d done me no good in clawing my way out of the witch’s watery labyrinth.  
  
  
Sayori’s middle nail, now, sported a blue teardrop. How appropriate—she’d given the rest of her life to do battle. A girl who could barely manage to wake up most mornings, a girl who would forget to bathe or eat breakfast or do her homework, had exchanged her soul for…

 

I drew my knees close to my chest, my stomach sinking. I felt anchored to my bed; it was my raft in the turbulent seas my life had suddenly become.

 

 _It’s not my fault, is it?_ I thought, chewing the skin around my thumb. It stung, raw and tender, but I gnawed regardless, anxiety gurgling inside of me. _I didn’t ask for this. I never asked her to._

I closed my eyes. Sayori, her blue skirt and winged gloves flashing before me. Her blue eyes begging me to understand, to accept her as she was now—some kind of savior.

 

 _But if you hadn’t gotten into this in the first place, she never would have made the contract._ That much was true. I’d been the one insistent on finding out the “truth” about Monika and the other girls. I’d been the one who dragged Sayori along on witch hunts, despite her initial trepidation.

 

It _was_ my fault.

 

All my life, I’d been Sayori’s savior. If you could call it that—it sounded a little pretentious to me, but nonetheless… I’d been her caretaker. As children, I’d bandaged her cuts, fought her tormentors, reminded her to brush her hair. Now I was the one who dragged her out of bed, forced her into a clean uniform, pointed out college application deadlines.

 

 _“I’ve always wanted to return the favor, Tomi,”_ she’d told me, after I’d dried off, still shivering and feeling soaked down to the marrow of my bones. _“And this is the only way I could think of to do it. I couldn’t let you die. If you die…”_

She’d paused, swiping messily at her eyes. I was appalled to see that she was crying. _“What?”_ I’d asked, my voice still waterlogged.

 

_“If you die, I’ll have to die too.”_

What a thing to say to someone. I fumed quietly, wondering if Sayori even knew how selfish she had been.

 

Perhaps she simply saw it as helping me. She could be shortsighted, tunnel-visioned. Perhaps she didn’t understand that she had simply put another burden on my shoulders. Now it was her safety, her life.

 

_Her soul._

 

How could I face her now? I felt as though I’d doomed her. And I hadn’t even meant to.

 

_Maybe I should’ve just died. Maybe there was a reason I fell into the labyrinth._

 

I remembered Monika behind her, smile catlike.

 

My face burned at the memory. _And why couldn’t she have saved me? Why was it Sayori that had to pay the price?_

My vision clouded with tears—they burned, born of rage and defeat. But there was sorrow there, too, sunk low in my chest. Sorrow that tied me to Sayori, would possibly always tie me to her.

 

I sobbed once, afraid of what was to come.

 

* * *

 

The next day’s club meeting was a strange one. The dynamics had changed, and now everyone was uncomfortably aware of it. Yuri and Natsuki sat parallel to one another, carefully avoiding the other’s eyes. Sayori sat beside me, and I tried to quell my ready anger at the chipper attitude I expected her to have.

 

She only smiled at me, though, and sat in silence, waiting for Monika to speak. I was nearly dumbfounded, but I didn't let it bother me. It wasn't my problem--not today, anyway.

 

Only Monika seemed unaware of the tension in the room. Perhaps she did notice, and she simply didn’t care to acknowledge it. Either way, I watched her warily; she stood before us, her instructor’s voice serene.

 

“Okay, everyone, listen up! We all know the festival is next week.” She straightened her posture, pressing her index finger into her cheek. “As you know, we’ll be doing poetry readings. I’d like everyone to participate in the preparations, so let’s come up with some ideas.”

 

Natsuki said, “I’ll bring snacks. I can bake cupcakes, I guess.”

 

“Great!” Monika nodded. “I’ll be putting together pamphlets, I think, with all of our poems typed out on the pages. That way, people in the audience can follow along. I’ll try and make them look nice and professional.”

 

Sayori was tapping her foot against the tile floor absentmindedly. I shot her a glance, warning her to stop, but she didn’t seem to notice. Her eyes were far away, trained on some distant horizon in her mind.

 

Yuri sank back in her seat, pulling a lock of hair in front of her. She still seemed uncomfortable with our idea for the festival. I couldn’t blame her; I wasn’t a fan of it either.

 

“What… should I do, Monika?”

 

Monika looked at her, surprised. “You? You can, uh…”

 

The club president’s eyes went blank. It was as though she’d forgotten that Yuri existed—which seemed beyond strange to me. There were only five of us, after all... and Monika had personal connections to all of these girls—highly personal—except for me.

 

But every time Yuri, Natsuki, and sometimes even Sayori spoke, Monika would snap her eyes at them, firecracker-like, as though she hated being reminded of their presence.

 

Was I the only one who’d ever noticed it?

  
  
I squirmed in my seat. Yuri looked bewildered.

 

“Is there nothing you’d like me to help with?” Yuri sounded defeated.

 

Natsuki said nothing, but she flicked her eyes back to Monika, awaiting a response.

 

Only Sayori sat, soundless, barely mobile next to me.

 

Monika clasped her hands together. I’d never seen her look so awkward. “Um. No, not at all! I mean—I definitely think…” she faltered, looking around the room for assistance.

 

Natsuki was silent, but I noticed her look of surprise at Monika’s uncharacteristic insensitivity. Yuri sank further into her seat. My mind felt like a jumbled mess—when Monika looked to me, pleadingly, I found myself unable to open my mouth.

 

“Decorations,” Sayori said from beside me. Although her face hadn’t changed much, her voice was bright. Too bright—almost brittle. “Yuri, you’re really good with stuff like that. We’ll need decorations. Otherwise, this place’ll look really boring. Just like a regular classroom. We can't have that, can we?"

 

Monika sighed audibly. “Of course! Why didn’t I think of that? Thank you, Sayori. Does that sound okay to you, Yuri?”

 

Yuri still looked miffed, but she composed herself. “Yes. I’ll work on decorating, if that’s what you’d like me to do.”

 

“Great!” Monika’s smile was too wide. “Sayori, maybe you can come over tomorrow and help me out? I’ll need someone to help me proofread and adjust the layouts on the pamphlets.”

 

Sayori simply looked at her.

 

“I—of course, Monika.”

 

“What should I do?” I asked, leaning against the elbow I had propped up on my desk. “What’s left?”

 

“Well, you could help me with decorations,” Yuri said, a little too quickly. I looked at her, appreciative of the offer, when Natsuki butted in.

 

“You don’t need help with that! Baking is a tougher job.” She looked at me as if she were challenging me to disagree. “I could use an extra set of hands.”

 

“You are always talking about how useless Tomi is,” Yuri shot back, her mild voice tinged with annoyance. “I think she’d rather help me then be insulted by you all weekend.”

 

“What do you know?” Natsuki snapped.

 

“Guys,” Monika tried, her smile straining, “I think we—”

 

“Hold up!” I slammed the palm of one of my hands onto the surface of my desk. The skin there stung, but it pleased me to see the shocked looks on the other girls’ faces. “Shouldn’t you actually ask my opinion?”

 

Yuri drew back, face red. “O-of course, Tomi. I’m sorry.”

 

Natsuki crossed her arms. “Fine.”

 

“Can I be excused?” Sayori stood, abrupt, her movement almost knocking her chair over. “I just remembered that I have to get home early today.”

 

Monika nodded, undisturbed. “Of course. You know what you’re doing this weekend. I can send you an update on anything else you need.”

 

“Okay. Thank you, Monika.” She grabbed her bag and practically stumbled towards the classroom door. My eyes followed her until they couldn’t anymore; something was definitely off.

 

My anger faded, replaced by a sharp sting of alarm. What was wrong with Sayori?

 

 _You know what’s wrong with her, you fucking idiot,_ I thought, and my heart thudded, bass-like.

 

“Well, Tomi, would you like to help Natsuki or Yuri this weekend?” Monika stopped in front of my desk, her hand flattening before me. I stared, transfixed by the green heart stamped onto her fingernail. “Of course, if you want, you could come help me instead.”

 

“What?” Natsuki said, outraged.

 

Almost simultaneously, Yuri said, “But, Monika!”

 

She turned to the other girls, her face smooth as a mannequin’s—but I noticed her eyes again, darkening like dying stars. “What’s the problem?”

 

“You already have Sayori’s help.” Natsuki looked furious. “Or, wait, I know. You just want _Tomi_ to be there specifically!”

 

Yuri said, her voice more spiteful than I’d ever heard it, “You just want her to yourself, is that it?”

 

I stared at the dark-haired girl I’d come to be so fond of. Her face looked like I’d never seen it, not even in the heat of battle. Not even with blood dripping from her wounds. Her eyes were wide, pupils almost pinpricks of rage.

 

Natsuki noticed, too, and looked at her with a face that almost looked concerned. She opened her mouth to say something, but then seemed to think better of it—a first for her, surely.

 

Monika withdrew her hand from my desk. She knotted it tightly at her side. “Of course not. Tomi, would you rather spend the weekend with Natsuki or Yuri? I don’t really care who you pick.” Her voice was carefully neutral. The other girls seemed to be ignoring her anger, but something about the situation had begun to frighten me.

 

 _Sayori._ Why had she left? I couldn’t leave her. She needed me now more than ever. She needed me to comfort her, to make sure she was okay. Especially now, that she was sacrificing her life every night.

 

“I—I guess I’ll spend it with Natsuki,” I said, my skin prickling. “Baking seems like a hard job.”

 

Natsuki sat back in her chair, satisfied, but Yuri shot me a look so full of hurt that I immediately regretted my choice. It wasn’t that I wanted to be verbally abused my Natsuki all weekend—far from it.

 

But…

 

The look on Yuri’s face had been unsettling.

 

Terrifying, even.

 

“Maybe if there’s time, I can come help you, too, Yuri,” I said.

 

She wouldn’t meet my eyes. “That’s fine.”

 

The air was still. Monika’s anger sat on top like a fog, while Natsuki’s confusion and Yuri’s hurt lingered beneath.

 

Near the floor, I felt Sayori’s sorrow.

 

_I need to go to her now._

“I have to go, Monika,” I said, standing up. “I need to check on Sayori.”

 

She waved her hand at me half-heartedly. “Fine. I’ll see you on Monday. This meeting is dismissed. Don’t forget your duties, everyone.” Her eyes focused on Yuri and Natsuki, narrowing into forest-green slits. “ _Any_ of them.”

 

Natsuki snorted. “Like we would!”

 

Yuri, bristling, stood from her desk. “Yes, Monika. Make sure _you_ don’t either.”

 

As I walked away from the room, I felt as though a storm had awakened, as though thunder rumbled in the distance; electricity cracked the air around me, raised the hair on my arms.

 

Lightning would strike. I just didn’t know where yet.


	11. Savior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flashback of Sayori's decision.

* * *

“Do you truly want that person's dream to come true? Or is it that you want to be that person's savior for making that dream come true?”

\--Mami Tomoe, _Magica Quartet [Vol. 01]_

* * *

 

“You’re sure this is where she was?” Monika stopped abruptly. The rain-damp ground around them eroded gently around the heels of her reddish-pink boots; the mud sucked at her feet. Her cape and the length of her ponytail cascaded behind her, both almost independent of the rest of her body. Her chestnut hair gleamed, lit by the setting sun; her cape was a rich, royal crimson, nearly indistinguishable from the sunset. Despite the situation, Monika remained calm.

 

Sayori, on the other hand, was anything but calm.

 

“Yes,” she choked, her panic flooding through her body with a paralyzing intensity. She sank to her knees, to the earth where Tomi had disappeared. It felt wetter to her than the rest of the ground. The air waved and shimmered before her, almost like the surface of a still pond. “She—it sucked her in here!”

 

“I think you’re right. It’s here. _She’s_ here.” Monika’s face tightened; she drew back, shoulders tense. Sayori felt her breath leave her.

 

“What should we do?”

 

“There’s not much we _can_ do. You might be able to save her—but only if you make a contract.” Monika’s voice sounded strained. She peered past Sayori’s fingers, where they dug into the soil, and into the watery “depths” of the labyrinth. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to save her myself.”  
  
“What do I need to do?” Sayori cried, her voice hoarse. The rest of Monika’s words had become meaningless gibberish in her head. _Tomi. Tomi, please._ “Please. Monika. _Please!_ We can’t leave her!”

 

Monika turned her head towards Sayori slowly. Her neck almost audibly creaked. Monika’s eyes, torrentially green, focused on her with striking intensity. Sayori leaned towards her, mud under her nails.

 

“You’re worried, aren’t you? She’s your… best friend.” Monika put her thumb to her lips, as though she wished to chew the flesh and nail away. She didn’t, though. Ever the graceful girl. She merely held it there, a fraction of a centimeter from her plump lips. “I can grant you the power to save her.”

 

“What do I need to do? Please!” Sayori’s knees began to ache, the socks covering them dark with dirty water. She thought about Tomi being drawn away from her on a fast and almost iridescent current. She thought of the brown hair flying around her pale face, the fear in her golden eyes.

 

Sayori flung herself across the muddied earth. Her shoes dug grooves into the surface of the ground. The grass became smushed and unsightly beneath her flailing body. Monika only raised her eyebrows, her face almost placid.

 

After a beat, she spoke. “What’s your wish, Sayori?”

 

“I never want Tomi to worry about me again. I’ll be the one that worries about _her_ from now on,” Sayori said, her voice cloaked in pain. The sobs made it difficult for Monika to hear her voice—but she, of course, could make out Sayori’s request. She heard the wish, and it sent a spike of joy through her heart.

 

Monika smiled, teeth flashing like the ivory of her piano keys.

 

“Of course. Don’t worry. You’ll have everything you need to help Tomi,” she said, reaching for Sayori’s hand.

 

The other girl raised her limp wrist, which stiffened as it made contact with Monika’s gloved fingers. Static raced from one girl’s body to the other’s; powerful, frightening, electric. Sayori gasped, her chest threatening to cave in, her lungs stiffening. The world momentarily darkened around her, leaving only the moon, lending its light to the girl before her—and all she could see was Monika’s gleaming eyes, her smile that became almost sinister, a half-moon of sharpened teeth.

 

Sayori forgot about it, of course, when she became a magical girl. Her limbs burned, the muscles elastic. She felt for her weapon—a bow, bone-colored and smooth, her quiver of arrows magically replenishing—and she knew what she must do.

 

The wings on her gloves and ankles fluttered. The bows on her clothing drifted around her, tranquil. Sayori knew what she had been born for—more, what she’d been _made_ for.

 

_To save the one I love._

 

She delved into the labyrinth, fighting the sticky wet waves that threatened to overcome her.

 

* * *

 

“That was clumsy,” Natsuki admonished, pulling her spear behind her back and fastening it with a fluid movement. Her ruffled pink skirt crinkled about her tiny white knees. Her rose-colored eyes almost matched the rest of her cutesy outfit, but their glassy glint was unfriendly, as usual.

 

Sayori rose, panting, from the ground. Dust settled on her clothing. She gripped her ivory bow. The quiver around her back had begun to feel too heavy.

 

“I really tried that time,” she complained, her voice hoarse. For an autumn day, it was warm; she and Natsuki had been practicing their fighting moves under the glow of the afternoon sun. It was a mid-year holiday, a day they could get away with being together like this. The park was out of the way, empty of the usual students and lunching workers.

 

Sayori would have preferred Monika’s help—or, in the absence of her club president, Yuri’s—but Natsuki had been the one who offered to help her train. She couldn’t exactly turn her down. After all, if Tomi needed her help again…

 

The problem—well. Sayori’s aim was imperfect; her jumps were ill-timed; her instincts were… well, to put it in Natsuki’s terms, _fucking horrible._

 

“You didn’t even get close to the target,” Natsuki complained, drawing closer. With her frilly skirt and high-heeled boots, she looked idol-like. Her face was drawn and sour, however. “Haven’t we done this twenty times?”

 

“I’m sorry,” Sayori said, grasping for her normal, unexhausted voice.

 

“Whatever.” Natsuki drew herself up, despite her height deficiency, and began to stalk towards their targets again. They were crudely drawn, stereotypical “witch” targets—each one bore a horrific face, drawn in crayon, complete with defiled eyes and a scribbled mouth. Sayori suspected that Natsuki had drawn them herself. The pink-haired girl flicked her dainty fingers; in response, the targets began to weave across the grass like drunken waltzers.

 

“Do you think--”

 

Natsuki paused; the marionettes fell at their feet in a pile of crudely designed cardboard. Sayori had begun to shake, afraid of what she was thinking, of what she was about to give voice to.

 

“Do you think I’ve… ruined… everything?”

 

A single sob tore from her throat. Natsuki stepped away from her, seemingly alarmed.

 

“What are you talking about?” She said, trying to soften her normally needle-like tone.

 

“T-Tomi—she—she hates me,” Sayori sobbed, burying her face into Natsuki’s bare knees. She felt the droplets decorate her thighs. “I—she—she thinks I’m—a _freak—_ ”

 

“Stop exaggerating,” Natsuki said, her voice roughening into a bark. “I know that’s not true. You saved her, right? You both knew what would happen—”

 

“But she didn’t know,” Sayori cried. Natsuki found herself drawing away, her thoughts tangled. Yuri forced into a contract. Monika’s beautiful, serene smile, her hair like gentle flames around her porcelain face.

 

Natsuki put a cautionary hand on Sayori’s head. _It’s so fucking hard,_ she thought, closing her eyes tightening. Remembering a girl, pink-haired, drowned like a rat in the spattering rain, wishing for her father’s death. Her eyes had been circled in swollen violet flesh. Her battered body had creaked as she bent before Monika.

 

“You did what you had to do,” Natsuki said, her voice husky. “Don’t forget why you did it. You hear me? Don’t forget what was so important to you. If you do…” she closed her eyes, remembering the nights she’d contorted, alone, on her futon. The tears drying in salt-studded streaks on her cheeks. _Daddy. Papa._

“I don’t regret it,” Sayori said, her voice almost indiscernible. “But I don’t want h-her to h-hate me.”

 

“She doesn’t,” Natsuki said, pulling her shoulders back. Tomi was a cynical girl, but a hopeful and determined one, nonetheless. She’d ventured into this world—

 

—And she’d never abandon Sayori, or even the other girls.

 

Natsuki felt that that was the truth.

 

“She loves you still. She cares. Even if she acts like she doesn’t…” Natsuki pulled her hand away from Sayori’s head, wondering. Yuri’s face flashed before her. _I can’t tell what I’m feeling anymore._ “She loves you.”

 

Sayori hiccupped, head still hanging, in response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've been so out of it lately and writing has been a struggle, so here's a third-person flashback/side-line chapter. i have some feelings about sayori so... and her parallel with sayaka miki... gah. anyway, thx for reading if you do!


	12. I Was Stupid. So Stupid.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sayori's regret becomes palpable. Tomi finds herself caught between the other girls' feelings.

* * *

“For all the happiness you wish for someone, someone else gets cursed with equal misery. That’s how it works for magical girls and that’s how it is for me… I was stupid. So stupid!”

—Sayaka Miki, _Puella Magi Madoka Magica_

* * *

 

“It’s unusually quiet out here tonight.” The neon glow from Yuri’s soul gem stained the sidewalk before us violet. She slowed, then came to a stop; when I glanced at her face, pale as the moon above us, it was creased with what seemed like worry.

 

“What does that mean?” I rubbed the bare skin on my arms; they were rippled with gooseflesh. As usual, I’d neglected to bring my jacket with me on our excursions. Autumn had fully descended upon us, and the increasingly windy nights had begun to carry a chilly bite. “Isn’t that a good thing?”

 

“Well, technically.”

 

I glanced at the dimly glowing gem in her outstretched palm. _Dim._ It did look a little… muddier, I supposed, than usual. I began to wonder if she hadn’t had a successful hunt in longer than she was letting on.

 

“I have a feeling Natsuki and Sayori have been out tonight.” Her voice was dry. “Perhaps Monika as well, although I haven’t seen her actually hunt in quite some time.”

 

“That’s…” I stopped, realizing what she was implying. “Monika doesn’t hunt witches?”

 

“I haven’t seen her do it since she trained me,” Yuri said, turning toward me with a small smile. A gust of hair tousled her skirt, but the heavy waterfall of her dark hair remained mostly unperturbed. “She does a good job of keeping her soul gem clean, though, doesn’t she?”

 

I chewed at my lip. “So… Sayori is hunting witches now.” Earlier in the day, Sayori and Natsuki had gone to train together. She’d told me after our walk home from school together, sounding almost shy about it.

 

 _“So… you want to come over later and read poems?”_ It’d been an olive branch. I had felt so guilty about her outburst in the clubroom, about the pained expression she’d worn at my rebuke. The girl had saved my life, after all. Any anger I was feeling towards her was ultimately mitigated by that action—that, and the fact that she was my oldest friend.

 

But she’d shaken her head. _“I have to go out tonight. Natsuki offered to help me, so I figured I should take her up on it.”_

_“Natsuki?”_ I’d found that strange. _“Wouldn’t Monika help you?”_

_“Monika told me to go with Yuri or Natsuki, so…”_ Sayori seemed troubled by this, but she said nothing more on the topic. _“I’ll see you later, though, okay?”_

But I couldn’t just let Sayori go alone, right? Even if she was with another magical girl… I couldn’t, in good conscience, sit at home. Not while Sayori was risking her life.

 

If she was doing it, then…

 

As another peace offering of sorts, I’d asked Yuri if I could go with her. She’d seemed quite disappointed after I’d declined to help her with her festival activities, and I truly regarded her as a friend. Besides… I was hoping we’d run into Sayori at some point.

 

“Are you surprised? Monika may be able to keep her soul gem clean, but the rest of us have to do the responsible thing and clean up the city.” Yuri’s neutral voice betrayed her anger at Monika, likely still residual from our last club meeting, before the brief holiday. “In fact, I’m sure they’re nearby. I’m sensing some kind of magic use.”

 

“Smart as ever, huh?”

 

I jumped back in surprise. On catlike feet, Natsuki landed before us; her skirt flared about her hips from the impact. She’d leapt directly from the roof of the pizza shop next to us, but she’d done it with grace and landed feather-light. Unlike Yuri, who was still in her uniform, she wore her flouncy pink skirt and her heart-crested spear strapped tightly to her back.

 

“You've been busy, I assume?” Yuri closed her hand over her soul gem.

 

“You could say that.” Natsuki looked at me. “Guess I’m not the only one dragging dead weight around tonight!”

 

“That’s not very nice,” Sayori called out. I tilted my head skyward; Sayori, in full magical girl regalia, teetered on the edge of the same restaurant roof. Ribbons trailed behind her, carried by the wind. I could make out her soul gem, a round sapphire, embedded in the winged white glove she wore on her left hand. I’d never noticed before, but there were wings decorating her stockings as well. From where she stood, surrounded by stars, she seemed like an angel—not a cupid-like angel, despite her ivory bow, but a biblical one.

 

 _Not an angel,_ I thought. _Like Icarus._

 

She made the same leap that Natsuki had made, but far less gracefully; she stumbled on the concrete, barely preventing herself from falling face-first onto the concrete. Natsuki laughed uproariously next to her.

 

Sayori reddened and pouted. “Whatever!”

 

“You’re clumsy even as a magical girl,” Natsuki said.

 

“So.” Yuri sounded impatient. “What are you doing here? I thought you were busy.”

 

“What, I can’t hang out with my fellow magical girls?” Natsuki folded her arms beneath her small breasts.

 

“You certainly don’t make a habit of it.”

 

“Maybe I just needed a break from Sayori. She’s even worse at fighting than _you_ , Yuri.”

 

Yuri didn’t seem to take offense to this. Instead, she looked at Sayori with a new intensity. “Is that so… why would Monika offer you a contract if—”

 

I interjected, “Sayori, have you been being careful?”

 

Sayori looked at me, her smile cheeky. “Well—”

 

Natsuki snorted. “Careful? It’s like she’s trying to get _me_ killed, too!”

 

Yuri said, “Well, maybe you should be more careful as well, Natsuki.”

 

“Hah. You’re one to talk.”

 

I tried to suppress any anger I was feeling at Sayori. I’d _just_ resolved to forgive her, after all. And at least she was making an effort to be safe by enlisting Natsuki’s help—right?

 

“I should be going with you instead,” I said.

 

“Absolutely not.” Natsuki rolled her eyes. “You’d slow me down even more. You’re not even a magical girl.”

 

Yuri looked at me, expression unreadable. “If you’d rather go with Sayori… then… that’s okay.”

 

I realized, belatedly, that I’d hurt Yuri’s feelings again. I opened my mouth, although I had no idea how to rectify the situation—but it was for nothing, because the other girl excused herself.

 

“It seems you two have the area covered tonight. I’m going to leave for now. Goodbye, Tomi.” She nodded at Natsuki and Sayori and turned on her heel, walking briskly away.

 

Natsuki watched her go. She waited until Yuri was out of sight before she turned on me. “Way to go, idiot.”

 

“I didn’t mean to do that,” I said, the guilt washing over me all over again. Every time I opened my mouth, I upset someone or made a situation worse, it seemed.

 

 _Wait a minute…_ I glared at Natsuki. “What do you mean? You say _way_ worse stuff to Yuri than I just did.”

 

Natsuki smiled. It was so soft that it actually startled me. “I know. But I don’t really _mean it._ ” She noticed me staring and her face hardened instantly. “Take a picture, freak! You should just go home, Sayori. I’m outta here. I’ll have way more luck without any of you slowing me down.”

 

With that, she stalked away from us, in the opposite direction that Yuri had gone.

 

“Natsuki is funny,” Sayori said. But her expression seemed drained. The energy had been sapped from her voice, as well. I’d never seen Sayori look so tired—and that was saying something for a girl who never seemed to stop sleeping.

 

“So are you really okay?” Now that she was closer to me, I began to see why she sounded so exhausted. Her knees wore deep red scrapes; a bit of blood leaked from a spot on the side of her head. “Sayori…”

 

“I’m fine, really.” She straightened, her smile returning. It seemed strained. “I’m going to be fine. I’ll get better.”

 

“You don’t seem… right.” It was true, and I felt like an idiot for taking so long to realize it. Sayori’s eyes were dim, almost gray with what I’d originally thought was simple exhaustion.

 

“I’m just tired. That’s really all it is.” She grabbed my hands, pressing her fingers into mine with feigned enthusiasm. “I’m ready for bed, is all.”

 

And why did that sound so ominous to me?

 

“Okay. Well, let’s get you home, then.” In a flash of blue-tinted light, Sayori collapsed into me, her clothes returning to normal and her soul gem falling gently onto the concrete below us.

 

I picked it up, alarmed. “Hey, be careful with this. What happens if it breaks?”

 

Sayori reached for it, turned it around a few times in her hand. It was a dull shade of blue, like the sky just before the rainclouds overcame it.

 

Her smile was strange as she said, “I’m not sure yet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> long time no update! [or so it seems to me.] i haven't had wifi and my writer's block was kinda iffy for a bit, but hopefully all that is being resolved. heavy stuff upcoming. :]


	13. Rainclouds Come to Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sayori deteriorates. The dawn of the festival draws nearer.

Playground school bell rings again

Rainclouds come to play again

Has no one told you she’s not breathing?

Hello, I’m your mind giving you someone to talk to…

 

\--Evanescence, _Hello_

* * *

_It's almost here._

Sayori rolled over on her side, clutching her stuffed bear closer to her chest. Her bedsheets felt cold, her comforter ineffective against the late autumn chill that accosted her from all sides. But she didn’t care.

 

The cold was inconsequential. She felt it only on the surface of her skin; the rest of her bones were numb, deadened to things like temperature or discomfort.

 

 _“Isn’t it funny—”_ Monika had paused midsentence, looking at Sayori with an almost guilty expression. _“Oh, I’m sorry. Nevermind. Did you decide which fonts we should use for the poems? I don’t want it to be illegible.”_

Sayori had stiffened. Monika had been strangely evasive all afternoon. It was after hours at the literature club, on the Friday before the festival was about to start. Natsuki, Yuri, and Tomi had already headed home for the day; Sayori had volunteered to stay behind with the president and help her with any finishing touches. Especially after she’d left so hastily at their last meeting…

 

Monika had noticed her expression, her posture. She’d smiled, but guiltily. _“I’m sorry, Sayori. I don’t mean to gossip, but… how close are you and Tomi?”_

Sayori remembered examining her hands, flustered. The blue teardrop on her nail felt as though it were burning. _“We’re best friends,”_ she’d said, struggling for a cheerful tone. _“We have been ever since we were kids. You know that, Monika.”_

_“That’s not exactly what I meant.”_ Monika set a sheaf of papers firmly onto the surface of the desk. _“I just… I’ve seen the way you look at her, you know? And then you made that wish. That wish was for her, right?”_

_“Yes,”_ Sayori had said. Monika knew that, too. She had been there, after all; she’d seen Sayori on her knees, pleading, tears and red face.

 

 _“I’ve just noticed that she’s been spending a lot of time with Yuri lately,”_ Monika said. She’d been looking into the distance as she said it; her eyes had a faraway cast, almost dreamlike. _“She and Yuri go out together at night a lot, don’t they?”_

_“They’re friends,”_ Sayori had tried, but she, too, thought of the way Tomi looked at Yuri. And who wouldn’t? She was beautiful and sophisticated, wasn’t she? A practiced writer, a skilled magical girl. Yuri had saved them when they would have otherwise died.

 

 _“And then she’s going to have Natsuki over this weekend, right?”_ Monika examined her own fingernails as if perplexed by the green heart on her middle nail. _“What is her game, I wonder?”_

_“Tomi doesn’t have a_ game _,”_ Sayori had borderline snapped. She covered her mouth quickly, appalled at her temper, but Monika seemed almost pleased with her small flare of emotion.

 

 _“I know how you feel, Sayori. It’s pretty selfish of Tomi to be spending all of her time with Yuri and Natsuki when_ you _saved her life, isn’t it? She has to know how you feel about her.”_

_“How I—what do you mean?”_

_“That you’re in love with her, of course.”_ Monika shifted her gaze to Sayori. They were burning with inquisitive interest. _“You_ are _in love with her, aren’t you?”_

Sayori’s palms had begun to sweat. She wiped them on her skirt. _“I mean…”_

_“You’re in love with her,”_ Monika had continued, bulldozing her way through Sayori’s inhibitions, _“and she treats you like an incompetent child. You’re her best friend, but what has she done for you?”_

_“That’s not true!”_ Sayori clutched handfuls of her skirt between her fingers. Her eyes had threatened to water, but she didn’t want to cry in front of Monika. Something about the situation was making her skin prickle. _“Tomi has always helped me when I’m sad. She’s always cleaned up after me, and… and—”_

_“Like you’re a kid, huh?”_ Monika sat in the chair facing Sayori, voice lowering. It had become soothing, almost like a rhythmic cat’s purr. _“She treats you like a child still… and she’s probably dreaming of another girl. Yuri or Natsuki. Someone she doesn’t have to keep helping. Someone who can save her every now and then. You know? Isn’t that messed up?”_ She reached out to pat Sayori’s knee.

 

Sayori had frozen completely at Monika’s words. _How does she know what I’m thinking,_ she thought. Tears streaked their way down her cheeks, zigzagging. They stung, more than almost any tears she’d ever cried before. _How does she know exactly how I’ve been feeling? Is it that obvious to everyone else?_

_“I did try to save her,”_ Sayori said, voice wavering. _“I tried to help her, too, for once…”_

_“It’s just too bad that she knows it came with a price.”_ Monika’s voice dripped sympathy. _“She probably feels like you’ve just placed another burden on her… but I know it isn’t true. I know you truly wanted to save her. You’re a good person, Sayori. It just isn’t fair, what’s been happening.”_

Sayori sobbed. The force of it nearly cracked her in half.

 

 _“Don’t worry about meeting me on Sunday,”_ Monika said, drawing the other girl close to her. Sayori cried against Monika’s chest, leaving hot wet spots on her blazer. _“I want to make sure you’re still okay. Maybe you should try to talk to Tomi? Maybe it’s time for a confession.”_

_“I… I…”_

_“You have until Sunday to think about it, but remember. She’s going to be with Natsuki. Maybe she’ll visit Yuri afterwards? Who knows.”_

Monika drew away; Sayori clutched at her stomach, missing the warmth of another person.

 

_“Just be honest with yourself, Sayori. And be honest with Tomi. It may be too late for you both if you aren’t.”_

And Sayori hadn’t left her bed since she’d returned from that meeting. Her parents were at a conference. She was utterly alone in her house. The clocks ticked by, sounding thunderous to her sensitive ears.

 

Her phone, on the other hand, had been sitting on her nightstand for two evenings now. It buzzed occasionally, perhaps with a text from Tomi or Monika.

 

Sayori couldn’t bear to look at it. She didn’t want to see what Tomi had to say about her. She thought of the other girl coming over, picking up her clothes, washing her dishes, forcing her into the bathtub, admonishing her for being useless, yet again.

 

“I can’t,” she whispered to herself. “I just can’t do this anymore.”

 

Her soul gem was next to her phone. It was still sky-blue around its edges, but almost black at its core. She wondered what that meant, if she should try to fix it, but she just couldn’t make herself move.

 

 _Nothing matters anyway,_ she thought.

 

That’s when there was a knock at her door. Tomi’s voice was on the other side. Stern, irate, but overwhelmingly concerned. “Sayori? Sayori, you’re in there, right? Your front door was unlocked, so…”

 

Sayori covered her face. When her hands came away, they were wet. She didn’t remember crying. She pulled herself upright, willing her face into a smile with every ounce of energy she had left.

 

“Come in!”

 

Tomi threw the door open. It was Saturday, so she was in what she usually wore on the weekends—a pair of rolled-up jeans and a loose top. This one was tied at her neck, right in between where her hair was tied off to either side of her face. Her amber eyes looked almost catlike in the dusk.

 

She flipped on the light switch with an aggressive motion. Sayori blinked against its harshness.

 

“What the hell? Why haven’t you been texting me back?” Tomi sat on the edge of Sayori’s bed, legs dangling. Sayori wondered if she was still smiling; it had become hard to tell.

 

“I’m sorry. I’ve been sleeping,” she said. This was somewhat true. It had been something like sleep, hadn’t it?

 

“All day? And what about yesterday after school?” Tomi’s frown was cutting. “God. Did I do something? I don’t understand. I’ve been so worried.”

 

“I’m sorry.” Sayori felt a pang in her chest—the sharpest emotion she’d felt in almost twenty-four hours. “Oh, Tomi, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you worry. Thank you for coming over, but I don’t feel so well.”

 

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.” Tomi reached for her hand. The hand with the painted nail.

 

 _Not painted,_ Sayori thought. _Engraved._

 

“Your hands are so cold,” Tomi said. “Aren’t you freezing in here?”

 

“No, I’m fine. Like I said, I’m just not feeling well.”

 

“But then… why ignore me?”

 

“Listen… you’re still going to see Natsuki tomorrow, aren’t you?” Sayori’s voice had become sharper than she’d intended it to.

 

“Well… um, yeah.” Tomi looked sheepish. “I thought you knew? She’s baking cupcakes for the festival, and I’m supposed to be helping her out. I was thinking I’d go to Yuri’s house afterward and help her with decorating, too.”

 

“Oh, really? Yuri, huh?” Sayori looked away from Tomi’s confused face. “I’m sure you’ll have a good time.”

 

“Why don’t you come with me?”

 

“No. I don’t think I can.”

 

“Why? I don’t get… what’s going on.” Tomi sounded hurt now. Sayori couldn’t bear it anymore. She reached for the gem on her nightstand; it was cold as an ice cube in her palm, but it burned at her skin, rather than melting on contact.

 

“Look.” She held it out, but couldn’t meet Tomi’s eyes. “Look at what’s inside of my head right now. Isn't it horrible?”

 

“What do you mean?” Tomi looked, horrified, at the gem between them. “What… what’s wrong with that thing?”

 

“I don’t know. Can you be honest with me for a minute? Do you think—do you think I’m a burden? Do you like Yuri because she isn’t a burden? Because she can take care of you?” Sayori’s chest heaved with the effort it took to spit this out. She looked Tomi in the face, afraid of what she’d see there.

 

“Sayori… why would you think you were a burden to me?” She reached for Sayori’s hands again, face a near-white mask of shock. “Oh, my god. This is my fault. I shouldn’t have… I acted so mean.” She seemed to be scrambling back to the day Sayori had saved her from the witch’s lair in her head. Her eyes flicked around the room, near-panicking.

 

“But I _am_ a burden, aren’t I?” She pulled away from Tomi, staring bleakly at the nail with the teardrop. “You’ve always been picking up after me. Even when I came to save you, you knew… well, you knew it would end up being the other way around, huh?”

 

“I can promise you that nothing— _literally nothing_ —is going on between Natsuki and I,” Tomi said, trying for a joke. “That girl thinks more of dog shit than she does of me.”

 

Sayori smiled. “Maybe. But… Yuri?”

 

Tomi hesitated—Sayori saw it in her face—but then she shook her head. “I don’t know. Yuri is my friend, but… she could never replace you, Sayori. Not… not in anything.” Her face flushed, but to her credit, she didn’t break eye contact with Sayori. “You’re really important to me. No more of this… burden shit. Okay? I can’t sit here and listen to it. I know you’re really down right now, but there’s no reason to be thinking about things like that. Okay?”

 

Sayori searched the golden depths of Tomi’s eyes for what felt like several minutes, but in reality was a couple of uncomfortable seconds.

 

“Okay. I’m sorry for worrying you.”

 

She wished she felt reassured. But the black center of her soul gem seemed to have expanded. Would the entire gem become black, she wondered?

 

_I wish the rainclouds would just go away._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yupp, i did indeed use evanescence as an epigraph. silly emo me. it's almost like it's 2010 again.
> 
> sorry for late updates and stuff -- i still don't have wifi or anything like that ;; thanks for your patience and very nice and thought-provoking comments! y'all are perceptive, i'll say that. ;)


	14. I'll Protect You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tomi and Natsuki reaffirm their places.

On this planet, you call females who have yet to become adults "girls". It makes sense then that since you'll eventually become witches, you should be called "magical girls".

 

\--Kyubey, _Puella Magi Madoka Magica_

 

* * *

 

 I could feel my fears creeping towards me, their metaphorical teeth flashing at me from the shadows shifting around my bed. My phone screen was still lit up, burning a hole into the darkness from my nightstand. I glanced at it—one in the morning.

 

I couldn’t sleep. My skin was prickling with foreboding. With dread. With excitement. Really, the world felt as though it were closing in around me at a velocity I’d never experienced. I’d come from Sayori’s house, ready to read over some homework or go back over the shopping list Natsuki had texted me.

 

But my mind refused to cooperate. I kept seeing those bruise-colored eyes, swinging towards me. The same color as that wretched soul gem on her desk.

 

When Sayori had first stood before me in all of her magic-imbued glory, her wings pristine, her bow flexed, I’d thought that blue was the perfect color for her gem and her powers. Blue like her eyes—like sunny skies, like optimism, the color you expect hope to be.

 

Now, though, I thought of the other meaning. The blues. The stormy expression on her face, and that wicked black core…

 

 _“That’s what’s going on in my head right now,”_ she’d said to me, smile empty. I shuddered at the memory. Where had _my_ Sayori gone? Had I truly hurt her so badly?

 

I rolled onto my back. The ceiling was blank above me. _I have to think of a way to fix this,_ I thought, chewing at the edge of my fingernail. _I know I can make it up to her somehow. I always have before, right?_

Right?

 

I closed my eyes, wondering about soul gems. I still only knew what Yuri and Monika had bothered to explain to me, really, but I did remember Yuri’s words on that day she’d saved us from the dandelion witch. Yuri, kneeling on the floor in Sayori’s room, the amethyst gem glowing between her palms.

 

 _“If anything happens to this gem, I will die,”_ she’d explained, sounding almost embarrassed to be revealing such a thing.

 

_So what if Sayori won’t kill any more witches? What will happen to her soul gem?_

I turned onto my side, facing my wall.

 

 _Natsuki might know._ Would she be willing to tell me? That was debatable. But surely she cared for Sayori too—enough to try and help me fix the mess I’d made.

 

_Why have I been so selfish? So fucking selfish. If something happens to Sayori because of me…_

I winced, pulled my thumb from my mouth. I’d made it bleed.

 

_I will never forgive myself._

* * *

 

The doorbell chimed. I turned away from the array of ingredients I’d spread onto my kitchen counter, wiped my hands on a dish towel, and started for the door.

 

It chimed again. And again. _Impatient,_ I thought, swinging the front door open.

 

Natsuki held two heaving bags, one in each small hand. She was wearing a shoulder-baring white top and a ruffled miniskirt. It was reminiscent of her magical girl outfit, actually—I wondered if that was intentional.

 

“Move aside! These are heavier than they look,” she huffed, pushing past me and into the kitchen. Her bags spilled onto the marble countertops; I could spot tubes of food coloring among her things.

 

“Yes, come in,” I said, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. _She really just made herself at home._

Natsuki flashed me a grin that lit up her face. “Thanks!” She put her hands on her hips. “So! Are you ready for a crash course in baking?”

 

I sighed and kneaded my dish towel. My anxiety had subsided for the majority of the day—but that was only because I was preparing for Natsuki’s baking. I’d filled my head with different kinds of flour, sugar mixes, and preheating temperatures—all to forget the strange, mechanical way Sayori had spoken to me the day before.

 

Natsuki noticed my lack of enthusiasm. She folded her arms. “Seriously? Pouting already? I was kidding about the boot camp thing.”

 

“No—it’s not that.” I wandered to where she was and rifled through her bags. Food coloring, measuring cups, cupcake wrappers, icing tubes. “Can we talk about something?”

 

Natsuki’s arms dropped to her side. Her expression tensed. “Yes. But let’s get started on this first. Otherwise, it’ll take us all day. And I’m already sure it will take longer with you helping out.”

 

 _Wow._ “Okay, fine. Let’s start, then.”

 

The two of us, silently at first, began to set about measuring cups of flour, sugar, water, and whatever else she deemed necessary. I barely paid attention to what I was doing, but anytime I messed something up, Natsuki was sure to say something to me in her sharp, critical voice.

 

After we’d gotten everything mixed together, she hopped onto my counter, legs swinging.

 

“Is this about Sayori?”

 

I turned, surprised. There was a smudge of flour on one of her glitter-brushed cheekbones. Her face had lost its smug superiority; she looked serious, for once.

 

“How did you know?”

 

“Hah. Let me count the ways.” She splayed her fingers. “One, she is a magical girl, you know? I can communicate with her telepathically. I can also detect that her magic is off. Two, she’s your best friend, so who else would it be about? And, finally, she _told_ me, dummy.”

 

I frowned. “She did? When? What did she say?”

 

Natsuki met my gaze. “I was helping her train, and she kept messing up. She couldn’t hit any of my puppets! So I said something about it, and she started crying… and she mentioned how upset you were with her.”

 

My own eyes clenched, threatening to flood with tears. _I’m such an idiot. I’m so stupid._ “What did she say?”

 

“She just said that she knew you were upset with her and that she… really cared about you.” Natsuki averted her eyes. “I guess anyone with half a brain knew that but… I think there’s something else there.”

 

My face flushed. “What do you mean?”

 

She sneered. “What, you want me to spell it out for you? You’re more oblivious than a boy!”

 

“I’m not oblivious,” I said, my tone sulkier-sounding than I’d intended. “But Sayori is my best friend. She’s been my best friend for a long time, so…”

 

“So? I mean, of course, you two should always be friends. But if there’s something else there, don’t you think you should… I don’t know… talk about it?”

 

“You’re one to talk,” I said; the words were out of my mouth before I could say anything else.

 

 _Smack._ I raised a hand to my cheek, shocked; there was a flour imprint there. Natsuki had hopped off the counter and slapped my face with the lightning quickness of a housecat on the hunt.

 

“Ooh, touchy subject?” I teased, relishing the look on her face. It was scrunched up like a little girl’s—like she’d never learned how to express her anger as an adult. It was actually incredibly endearing. Even if she had just smacked me.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she huffed. “Yuri isn’t like that. We aren’t friends. She’s just another cocky magical girl who thinks she’s better than everybody else.”

 

“I don’t think Yuri’s like that at all.” Her kindness at taking Sayori and I with her on hunts had been instrumental in developing our friendship.

 

“What do you know?”

 

“Apparently, I know a lot.” I touched my face. “I know what it’s like to think of someone in one way for so long that you completely miss what’s happening in front of your face…”

 

I trailed off. Sayori. Did I love Sayori?

 

My heart clenched.

 

_Do I love Sayori?_

Natsuki turned her back to me, intent on mixing a bowl of frosting. She carefully administered a couple of drops of coloring to it; it brightened as she beat it into a fluffy blue paste.

 

“There _is_ something Sayori and Yuri have in common,” she said, tone soft. “They’re fools. Idealistic fools. They care too much about the wrong things, and that can be so dangerous… they need someone to protect them.” She paused. “Especially Sayori.”

 

I nodded, thinking. “I’ve always been that for Sayori. She thought she’d shift the roles if she made a contract, but that’s not true at all.”

 

“Do you have a problem with that? Protecting her?”

 

 _How could I, especially now?_ Sayori had made the contract to save my life explicitly. But I’d been there all along, ironing her shirts, cleaning her bathroom, making sure she had eaten lunch. Brushing her hair from her eyes. Bandaging her scraped knees.

 

“No,” I heard myself say. It was true. I meant it. I would always be there to protect Sayori, if she would allow it.

 

Natsuki seemed to relax her shoulders as I said it.

 

She turned toward me, teeth flashing in a smile. “Good. Then maybe we have more in common than I thought.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally got some wifi!! i appreciate everyone's patience and continuing interest. it means the world.
> 
> i won't let the update go so long this time; i'm rewatching pmmm and replaying ddlc simultaneously to get a feel for it all again. :)


	15. It Just Stops Moving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A poem never really ends. It just stops moving.

* * *

“Get out of my head before I do what I know is best for you.

Get out of my head before I listen to everything she said to me.

Get out of my head before I show you how much I love you.

Get out of my head before I finish writing this poem.

 

But a poem is never actually finished.

It just stops moving.”

 

\--“%”, Sayori [ _Doki Doki Literature Club_ ]

* * *

 

Sayori watched, waited.

 

The cicadas buzzed, their cries drowning out any words Sayori might have been able to pick up from Natsuki and Tomi. She clutched her soul gem, a dull silvery-blue with a black pit like a rotten fruit, closer to her chest. Something triggered her heartbeat—like the dying magic in the soul gem had some kind of magnetism with her living body still.

 

Her body resisted the transformation that the gem beckoned, however. Something felt heavy, both in her mind and her limbs. The magic felt less comforting than it normally did, less _right_. They no longer fit together.

 

She clutched the gem, cold and glassy, and raised it to her cheek. Natsuki was dressed in an outfit not unlike her magical girl clothes. She looked adorable, perky. Her face, framed by pink pigtails, glowed a soft apricot in the sunset.

 

And Tomi… she was looking at Natsuki, laughing, looking so easygoing. _She’s forgotten about me,_ Sayori thought. _I made her so upset, and Natsuki cheered her up. But isn’t that a good thing? Am I that selfish?_

Sayori’s lip trembled. Tomi threw back her head and laughed at something Natsuki said, brown hair loose down her back. They were walking toward Sayori, but were unaware that she was watching them; she pulled herself around the corner of her house, feeling the bricks scrape against her calves. They were lost in one another, in the cadence of the evening and their company.

 

 _It can’t be this way anymore,_ Sayori thought, her heart lurching. _It can’t be like that between us anymore, because I went and did this… I ruined it all. How can she love me when I’m such a… a…_

She thought of Monika. Her skin chilled—an almost Pavlovian response.

 

“A fuck-up,” she whispered. Her tears began to prick icily at the corners of her eyes. A coarse word, one Tomi used frequently. How fitting.

 

 _This may be your only chance,_ Monika had warned her.

 

Sayori opened her hand, gazed into the black core of her once-sparkling blue gem. _My soul. My soul is in there, and that’s what it looks like. But Tomi… she used to help me. She used to care about me. She would have never let me get this bad._

_Maybe we can fix it._

With a small flash, the orb disappeared then reappeared as the solid silver ring around the base of her middle finger. The blue teardrop, so apt now, remained a stark reminder of who she really was.

 

_She can fix it. She can fix anything._

With a heavy breath, Sayori pulled herself away from her home. She put every ounce of energy she had inside of her and cried out: “Hey! Tomi! Nat!”

 

The two of them jerked, surprised, at the sound of her voice. She made an effort to appear cheerful, carefree—the Sayori they knew.

 

“Hey,” Natsuki said, putting her hands on her hips. “Where’ve you been all day?”

 

“Oh, you know. I was still helping Monika with some stuff,” she lied, the words like ashes coating her tongue. “How did the baking go? Did everything turn out okay?”

 

“Yeah,” Tomi said, her face in an uncharacteristically wide smile. “We actually filled all of the surfaces in my kitchen with cupcakes. Actually, I’m probably gonna need some help carrying them tomorrow, if you don’t mind.”

 

Sayori nodded. “Sure!”

 

She felt Natsuki’s eyes linger on her. Turning to meet her stare, she was surprised at the earnest expression on the other girl’s face. She put an aggressive hand on Sayori’s shoulder, strong despite its dainty size.

 

“Well, I’m going to get going. In case you haven’t forgotten, we’ve got work to do tonight! I’m sure Yuri’s already out in the city.” She clicked her tongue. “Will I be seeing you later?”

 

Sayori forced herself to nod.

 

Natsuki studied her for a moment longer, then removed her hand. “Okay. Be careful with my cupcakes tomorrow, or I’ll kill you both!”

 

With that, she strutted away, skirt flouncing about her thin white legs. Sayori thought she saw Tomi watch her go. That same urgency from before—the urgency that Monika had given her—lit inside of her once more, flames renewed.

 

“Tomi,” Sayori said, grabbing at her friend’s hands. “Can we talk? For a minute?”

 

She looked surprised, but she relaxed her hands, allowing Sayori to hold them. “Of course. I wish you would talk to me, actually… are you feeling any better?”

 

Sayori nodded, wishing she felt confident—wishing she felt anything but that crushing despair, that black core that was growing inside of her like some shadowy nightmare. Wishing she hadn’t seen Tomi laughing with Natsuki. Wishing she hadn’t dropped to her knees before Monika, wailing like a child.

 

_Wishing. That’s what got me here in the first place._

 

Sayori’s grip tightened. The ring around her middle finger felt suffocatingly tight, like it was constricting closer and closer to the bone. Threatening to amputate.

 

“Do you know what I wished for, Tomi? When Monika made me a magical girl?”

 

Tomi’s lips parted, but she only exhaled and shook her head. Her dark hair fell forward, partially obscuring her face.

 

“Do you want to know?”

 

A frightened look crossed her face, but she nodded anyway. Sayori felt herself surge forward, felt the words tumble out of her with no regard for the consequences.

 

“I wished for you to be happy, Tomi. I wished for you to never have to worry about me again.”

 

“It—it’s not working,” the other girl said, voice sounding strangely choked. “I worry about you so goddamn much.”

 

Sayori’s fingers felt icy, suddenly. She let go of Tomi’s hands. _Wait._

“But how can that be possible?” She asked. She felt genuinely confused. “How can it be possible, if… if I have these powers?”

 

“Maybe Monika took it to mean something else?” Tomi said, looking just as puzzled. She reached for Sayori, but the other girl was lost to her. She pulled away, her thoughts becoming jumbled once again.

 

“If I didn’t get what _I_ wished for, then… what was the point?”

 

“Sayori?”

 

“I—I meant what I said.” Sayori splayed her fingers. The sanguine light licked between each of them like flames. The ring, especially, gleamed with an ethereal twilit quality. “But maybe Monika was right.”

 

“Monika was right about what?” Tomi sounded alarmed, but Sayori found herself lost again. There was a barrier constructed between them. Or, more accurately, they existed together, in the same reality—but on separate planes.

 

If Tomi had tried to touch her again, Sayori wondered if her hand would simply pass through her body. _Like a ghost._

_Am I dead already? Is that why I feel like this?_

“Natsuki can take care of you,” she said, the words heavy, fuzzy-feeling. “Or Yuri. You like Yuri, too, don’t you? Or is it Monika you really like?”

 

“Sayori? Hey! What are you talking about?” Tomi stepped toward her, but Sayori shrank away.

 

“I just remembered.” She held her open hand out, bridging the gap between them. The soul gem reappeared. It was even blacker, if that were possible, but there it was, occupying the same space in her palm. “I have to fight witches now. It’s almost dark. Natsuki and Yuri are doing their magical girl duties, and then there’s me… being useless, as usual.” She laughed in a hiccupping way.

 

“Sayori. Don’t go. Please don’t.” She looked back up, to where Tomi’s golden eyes pleaded with her to stop and stay with her.

 

“I have to, Tomi. It’s okay. Look, I’m still a magical girl.” She closed her fingers around the soul gem. Her body pulsed with that same magnetic energy, still reacting to what little good magic remained inside of her. Her clothes became blue, white, flowy, ribbons and wings dancing in the wind.

 

Before Tomi could say anything else, she turned to go, her crossbow heavy in her hand.

 

“Sayori! At least let me come with you!”

 

“No, that’s dangerous. Stay home, Tomi. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? We’ll have so much fun at the festival. It’ll be so much fun.”

 

She walked quickly, hoping Tomi hadn’t seen the tears running down her face. She couldn’t stop them anymore; all of the grief welling inside of her was finally leaking out, finally spilling free.

 

* * *

 

Long shadows danced across the brick laid across the city’s central park. People were out, bundled up in scarves, holding hands. The wind was chilly, right off of the water; it tousled Yuri’s hair and bit at her exposed shoulders and knees.

 

She took to the far left of the sidewalk, careful to avoid eye contact with any passersby. Her magical girl outfit, while more conservative than Natsuki’s or Sayori’s, still attracted too much unwanted attention.

 

It’d been a slow night, even for a weekend evening. She had started early, trying to preoccupy herself with physical exertion. She didn’t want to think about Tomi and Natsuki on their little day date; she just didn’t have it in her to brood over it.

 

She shook her head, brushing away the mood swing that threatened to overtake her. _Natsuki isn’t into Tomi,_ she thought. _And I doubt Tomi likes Natsuki, either. I’m being irrational, and I know it._

 

She paused. A shift overcame the air, darker even than her thoughts had been moments before. Yuri knew that feeling anywhere—that evil, wicked passage through the atmosphere that occurred when a witch was nearby.

 

 _I can feel it,_ she thought, letting her soul gem light the path before her. It glowed in warning. _But something isn’t right about it._ _This doesn’t feel like a witch’s magic. It feels like…_

She looked up, scanning her environment. The people had walked away from the center of the park; it was just her, and a lone figure on a bench.

 

“Sayori?”

 

The other girl didn’t acknowledge her at all. She was slumped over, head in hands. She was in her magical girl uniform, the elongated ribbons tangling around her ankles.

 

Yuri approached her, cautious. _She must be upset about Tomi and Natsuki spending the day together as well._ “Hey, Sayori. Is everything alright?”

 

Sayori raised her head, eyes blank. Frighteningly blank. Almost corpselike.

 

“Did you get what you wished for?” She asked.

 

Yuri, taken aback, tilted her head. “What?”

 

“I think Monika lied to me. I think Monika lied to all of us.” Sayori’s body jerked, and with a dull glow, she fell out of her magical girl form, slumping further against the bench in just her shorts and t-shirt.

 

“Monika?” Yuri reached out to touch Sayori’s shoulder, but stopped; it hung between them, frozen. “Sayori? What’s wrong with your soul gem?”

 

Sayori lifted it between them, and she began to sob.

 

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I couldn’t do it after all. I’m sorry.”

 

Yuri covered her eyes with one arm as the air between them began to swell and flash. The glass shattered, the pieces battering both of their bodies.

 

In its place hung a swelling black grief seed.

 

Yuri attempted to leap away, but the labyrinth pulled them both inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... :)
> 
> still out of wi-fi. can we hit 1,000,000 prayers?
> 
> jk. thanks, as always!


	16. happy thxughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens to magical girls?

* * *

 

happy thoughts happy thoughts happy thoughts

 

\--Special Poem, “happythxughts.png” [ _Doki Doki Literature Club_ ]

* * *

 

  _It’s cold here…_

_…and it’s raining._

Yuri splayed her fingers into what felt like linoleum. The labyrinth was darker than the outside world had been--like there had been a power outage in a sleeping building. _A school?_ She thought, pulling herself upright. Her knees ached from her fall, but otherwise she felt only mildly dazed.

 

 _Physically,_ that was. She rose to her feet, holding a hand before her legs. They healed slower than she’d have liked; her magic hadn’t had a chance to be replenished. _This is a witch’s lair,_ she thought, straightening her spine. Each hand gripped a knife. _But then—where did Sayori go? Was she attacked already?_

Yuri didn’t want to think too hard about the dead look in Sayori’s eyes. The soul gem—well, what had happened to it?

 

 _It shattered._ Did that mean she was dead? _The grief seed…_ what could that _mean_?

 

The knife handles were slick with her fear.

 

 _Natsuki. Tomi._ She willed herself to wander deeper into the depths of the labyrinth, but she couldn’t see what she was walking into. _I need you._ Could Natsuki hear her? Could Monika?

 

 _Something isn’t right._ Sayori’s face. Her voice.

 

_“I’m sorry.”_

* * *

 

  _The festival._

My footsteps were overbearingly loud in my own ears. My shoes slapped at the concrete, my joints rattling. All I could see in front of me was a blackening sky, the absence of stars.

 

Its emptiness reminded me of Sayori’s eyes. Her hands grasping at mine; my wrists still burned, as if from ligature marks.

 

_Where has she gone?_

 

I didn’t want to lose focus. I’d get lost if I did. My thoughts were scrambled. All I could think about was her face before she left, and how her soul gem looked like a rotted fruit. How it took all of her energy to transform into a magical girl, her stumbling feet.

 

It had almost been as though the magic was used up. _The girl is used up,_ I thought. I couldn’t remember if Monika or Yuri had mentioned a magic quantum that could be depleted… unless…

 

Panic curdled in my throat, soured my stomach. _I can’t do this alone,_ I thought. I stopped running. The streetlamps were crowded with clumps of insects, as if each lightbulb contained roadkill.

 

 _Natsuki._ I thought her name as loudly as I could. I knew she could read my thoughts, just like she could read Yuri’s and Sayori’s. _Please. PLEASE. I need you._

Her voice crashed into my head like a roughened ocean wave into a cliff’s face. _What. What is it?_

Relief flooded through me; my limbs were warmed through again. I grabbed at my arms, suppressed a shiver. _Sayori is gone. She isn’t right. She’s going to get herself killed if she doesn’t… if I don’t…_

Wherever Natsuki was, I could envision her scoff. _And how is that my problem?_

_Seriously?_ My anger flashed, a red scarf before my eyes.

 

 _Okay, okay._ There was a pause, brief but pregnant. _I caught a weird read in central park. By the fountains. I thought I detected Yuri there, too, but no one is there now._

Yuri. Someone else I’d hurt by being selfish. _Can we meet there?_

_Fine. But if you’re late, I’m going to leave._

* * *

 

Natsuki in her magical girl regalia was standing, huffy, before an empty bench. I caught up to her with some effort; I was no athlete, and my chest was threatening to cave in from all of my heavy breathing. _I don’t have any magic-given abilities._ Nor did I want them.

 

 _They cause nothing but problems._ I clenched my fists. The bitten edges of my nails bit roughly into my palms.

 

“There you are,” she said. “Do you notice anything weird?”

 

I bent at the waist, struggling to regain my breath. “The… the—air? It’s kinda…”

 

She nodded. Her skirt, fluffy and high, swished about her thighs. She towered over me in red boots that gave her several inches. “It’s shimmering, right? It’s a witch’s labyrinth.” She pulled her spear from its strap. “A new labyrinth, it seems like. Brand new.”

 

“Yuri is in there?” I looked at the park bench, suddenly filled with dread.

 

“I think so.” Her face was calm, but seemed grim. “Maybe she was pulled into it? Or maybe she’s desperate for grief seeds. If the witch just spawned, it may not even have one.”

 

 _Spawned._ Something about that word—

 

“Where do witches come from?” I said, almost without meaning to.

 

Natsuki looked at me. “Monika didn’t tell you? Or Yuri? They’re born out of people’s suffering. Chaos, grief…”

 

Sayori.

 

“Sayori’s in trouble,” I said, my voice rising. I tried to avoid hysteria, but I felt like a balloon heading for a ceiling fan. “You said she was in there, too, right? She’s in there!”

 

“Yeah.” Natsuki sucked at her teeth. “Grab my hand. We’re going to go in there and get those idiots out.” Her confidence seemed entirely like a façade, but for once I wanted to trust her. I grabbed at her white-gloved hand.

 

With a one-handed slash of her spear, the labyrinth opened before us. We both tumbled into the labyrinth.

 

The park had distorted entirely; nothing remained of the world we’d left behind. Natsuki was stiff beside me. My hand and hers were intertwined in a vice grip. _Who is more afraid right now?_

“It’s like our school,” Natsuki said. Her voice was quiet behind a low roar of thunder. I looked skyward; the ceiling seemed to be leaking.

 

 _No,_ I thought, bringing my hands to my face. _It’s raining. It’s a rainstorm._

“The witch copied our school?”

 

We began to walk, slow, careful. Natsuki was only a step ahead of me, but she gripped her spear with her free hand, swinging it carefully in a guarding arc before us.

 

“I don’t think they can willingly construct their labyrinths,” she said. “I think it’s just born out of whatever’s in there heart, I guess.”

 

“Makes sense. Well, as much as anything else does.”

 

Our footsteps echoed, wetly, in the shadowy darkness. This labyrinth was unlike most of the ones I’d seen before; it lacked the spastic energy of a witch feeding on chaos. There weren’t any brilliant stripes of color, no anthropomorphic objects trying to chomp at our heels or bite our hands.

 

There was nothing, but rain and quiet and the occasional blue flash of lightning.

 

Natsuki stopped.

 

“Yuri’s here,” she said, her grip tightening even further. “She just called out for help. Hurry!”

 

We quickened our pace, feet slapping wetly. The darkness sizzled away as we did so; I noticed jars lining the hallway now, as we ventured further into the heart of the labyrinth. They contained tiny lights.

 

However, after each jar we passed, the lights were extinguished.

 

It was as if the path behind us were disappearing as we crossed it.

 

“Yuri!” I gasped. Yuri stood before us, before a locked door. We’d reached a dead end—the same dead end that she’d reached, presumably. Our footsteps ceased, and with it the lights around us.

 

“Are you okay?” Natsuki asked, voice gruff. She released my hand, grabbing for one of Yuri’s instead.

 

“Y-yes,” Yuri said, too startled to pull away. “But…”

 

“Where’s Sayori?”

 

Yuri’s face was as white as her dress, stricken. “I don’t know. She… her soul gem _broke._ ”

 

“What does that mean? What does _any_ of this mean?” I could feel myself becoming hysterical, could feel myself losing control. _But who am I staying in control for? If Sayori is gone?_

“I—”

 

“Look!” Natsuki shoved her way in between us. The doorknob of the locked door in front of us was rattling.

 

Instead of opening, it simply rinsed away; the wood ran like ink around our shoes, revealing a black room with a single light inside of it.

 

 _The witch._ A shadowy figure, featureless, sat crouched in the corner of the room. Its head was only a jar without a lid. Two small, glowing sparks rattled about inside of it like fireflies; they _clinked_ gently against the glass.

 

When it saw us, those sparks focused, like eyes.

 

“I’ll take care of this.” Natsuki, spear in hand, stalked toward the offending creature.

 

However, it did nothing—it didn’t move, didn’t try to attack her. It simply stared, fixated.

 

Natsuki raised her weapon, aimed its point directly at the creature’s jar-like head—but she froze there.

 

Time seemed to slow. Neither she nor the strange, quiet witch moved a muscle. Yuri and I waited, breath shallow.

 

Natsuki lowered her spear.

 

“Where’s Sayori?” She asked. Her voice sounded strange; it echoed loosely inside the halls.

 

“I think I can answer that.”

 

_Monika?_

I half-turned. Sure enough, the club president came from the shadows and into the dim light provided by the witch’s eyes. Her red cape swirled regally about her shoulders.

 

“Monika—you have to help us,” I choked, practically leaping towards her. She seemed unsurprised. “Sayori’s gone.”

 

“No,” Monika said. She grabbed my hands. She handled them gently, as though she were handling porcelain. Her face was doll-like, eerie in the amber glow from the witch. “Well—I suppose in a way she _is_ gone. But she’s right there.”

 

I turned to look. The witch fixed me with its not-eyes, those dancing golden sparks. The head—a bottle, not a jar, I realized. A bottle…

 

“Sayori?” My voice was hoarse. “What… I don’t understand.”

 

Natsuki and Yuri turned to Monika; they seemed as surprised as I was. “Explain,” the pink-skirted magical girl snarled without taking her eyes from the witch.

 

Monika shrugged. “Well. I thought you all knew! Once a magical girl’s soul gem becomes too tainted, the soul inside of it cannot recover. It becomes a grief seed—a witch’s egg.”

 

“You’re _kidding me_!” Natsuki turned, whip-like, to face Monika. Her face was contorted into a snarl. “You _never_ said—”

 

“Monika, is that true?” Yuri’s voice, while softer, was little more than a shriek itself.

 

The commotion, explosive as it was, seemed to have startled the bottle-headed creature. _Sayori._ It leapt away from Natsuki, its golden _happy thoughts_ bouncing frantically against the glass. The shadows around us began to lengthen; they stretched across the floor, growing claws, and grasped at Natsuki’s ankles.

 

She gasped, writhed. Yuri, startled, began to rush forward, knives prepared to slash—but the darkness grabbed at her from behind, coiling about her chest.

 

“ _Sayori!_ You have to stop!” I cried. I remained in the only pool of light there was left. “You can’t hurt them! We’re your _friends_!”

 

“I’m afraid she can’t hear you now,” Monika said, her voice cool. “Sayori isn’t here anymore. That thing is what’s left of her, in a way… but it’s just her hatred. Well, maybe for Sayori that isn’t the right word. She had this darkness lurking in her for a long time, right?”

 

I stared at her, mind blank. “She…” Yes, it was true. What could I say?

 

“She should never have made the contract.” Monika put a hand on my shoulder. “It was only a matter of time. I’m sorry, Tomi.”

 

She pulled away from me, stepped closer to the cowering creature that was once my best friend. Monika held her hands out in front of her. A sparkling green magic became a solid, hefty weapon in her hands—a machine gun. Monika held it carefully and aimed it at the creature’s glass head.

 

“ _No!_ ”

 

 _Sayori._ The girl she’d been winked at me from the darkness, from the contents of that bottle. Scraped knees, hair in tangles. Her uniform tie knotted loosely, her jacket unable to button over her breasts. Her worried smile, the look she’d give me from her bed as I folded her laundry and made her lunch.

 

The blue eyes I’d grown to love, limpid and soft, too loving for someone like me. Sayori. The sacrificial lamb. The goddamn martyr. Depressed and self-sacrificing until the end.

 

Sayori in her magical girl regalia, winged and blue-skirted and beautiful and dying, dying even as she fought evil.

 

I loved her. I loved her.

 

And I knew I’d lost her—I’d lost her before I knew the truth, before Monika had arrived. I’d lost her when I’d visited her that last day, when she’d broken down in front of me, face slick with tears.

 

“ _SAYORI!”_ I tackled Monika, and the bullet flew off into the inky blackness, toward the rainclouds. She let me fall to the floor with her, too shocked to stop me. “Sayori, please come back. Please stop hurting them. Please. _Please._ I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.”

 

The creature saw me then, those golden eyes unblinking, unnerving. Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts.

 

It brought its shadowy hands to its glass head, pressed them there as though it were going insane. The darkness receded around us; Yuri and Natsuki fell to the floor beside us, wordless but panting.

 

 _She heard me._ “Sayori—”

 

It pressed its hands, harder, into its head. The glass shattered under the pressure. Shards flew at all four of us, kneeling on the floor. I screamed something, forgetting to protect my face; Monika threw her cape over me, but not before I felt a nick, a drop of blood.

 

She was gone.

 

_Happy thoughts._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoo!! i finally got wifi. i also have a very intense job now but i'm back in the swing of things. this was a hard chapter to write for..... a lot of reasons.
> 
> trivia: sayori's witch name is libatina.


	17. I Don't Give a Damn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monika makes up her mind.

 

* * *

 

_“You're wrong. Everything has to do with her. You're sharp. Yes, you're right about me. I don't give a damn if you live or die; I don't care. I just don't want Madoka to see you like this; as you destroy yourself. If you don't let me help you now, you're going to die either way. You see, if you make her suffer any more, then I will...kill you.”_

\--Homura Akemi, _Puella Magi Madoka Magica_

 

* * *

 

  
Glass crunched under the heel of Monika’s boot. She leaned over the fading wreckage, what remained of the witch’s lingering labyrinth, and reached into the mess to extract a thin black grief seed. It seemed almost blue in the center, although she was certain it was an illusion. _Every other time this has happened,_ she thought, _it has been normal. It’s been black like it should be._

But no, she could see it—a faint blue energy contained inside of the grief seed like some kind of remaining magic energy.

 

_Does that mean…_

She clutched it, feeling it roll between the silken fabric of her white gloves. Her cape swished about her legs as the labyrinth, in a final pulse of energy, expelled them. They were in the park once more, all four of them—what remained of them, that was. Of the literature club.

 

The moon was mostly full above them, silvery and benevolent. Monika thought of Sayori, keening brokenly under that same moon, giving up what was left of her humanity. She felt empty at the thought. _It couldn’t be helped._

 

“What are you doing with that?” Natsuki snarled. She tried to stand upright, but stumbled; Monika could see blood on her thighs, where her skirt stretched to meet her high red boots. “What right do you have!”

 

Monika held her temper to the best of her ability. She gave every bit of acting ability she had to smile in Natsuki’s direction. The girl was grating on her nerves more than she had _ever_ done before, in any other timeline. Or perhaps Monika had just finally lost her patience after dealing with these idiot girls over and over and over again.

 

That’s when Monika remembered. She looked behind her, to where Tomi was still kneeling. Her bare knees pushed into the cement on the sidewalk. Her hands covered her mouth, but her body was hiccupping with sobs. Tears ran down the sides of her fingers. Monika wanted to go to her, but before she could, she detected movement from the corner of her eyes to her left.

 

Yuri rose on unsteady legs; she crumpled next to Tomi, holding her in an uncharacteristically brave show of affection. _How unusual._ Monika narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing the dark-haired magical girl. _Don’t tell me I’m going to have to get rid of all of you—again._

 

Both of the other magical girl’s eyes were trained on Monika. Natsuki seemed outraged. Yuri seemed confused. Tomi didn’t seem to see anything in front of her—she rocked with the anguish she felt, mind still lost in Sayori’s labyrinth.

 

 _She’s still feeling those rainclouds._ Monika looked back at the grief seed in her hand, and for one moment, she felt a sharp pang in her heart. _Sayori._ _I haven’t felt this way in so long,_ she thought, fingering the crevices in the black seed. The blue energy had faded to nothing. After all, it was just the last remaining piece of a witch’s heart. _Nothing sentimental about it. The real Sayori has been dead for so long—what does it really matter?_

“You want to try explaining what happened in there?” Natsuki stepped towards her again, but she failed to make her movements aggressive; she remained injured, and her magic hadn’t been replenished. Monika knew that Natsuki’s magic was not well-suited for healing wounds, anyway; that was Yuri’s forte. Regardless, she supposed that neither girl had much magic to spare.

 

“Yes, of course,” Monika said, trying to remember to keep her cool. _It’s important that Tomi sees you do this rationally. Act like you still care, Monika. Act like you still care about Yuri and Natsuki and Sayori and whoever the hell else gets in your way._ “What would you like to know?”

 

“How could you let this happen?” This came from Yuri, cradling Tomi’s head close to her chest. Her eyes were stretched wide, the pupils shrunken into violet pinpricks.

 

“How come you never _told us_?” Natsuki bared her teeth.

 

Monika sighed without meaning to. “If you had asked the right questions, I would have given you the right answers. As for letting it happen… I have no control over it, Yuri. I grant contracts, but it’s up to the magical girl herself to keep her soul gem clean.” She leveled her gaze with Yuri’s, ignoring Natsuki. _I know who the more important girl is this time._ “Sayori became obsessed with Tomi, and it consumed her.”

 

At this, Tomi raised her head. Her amber eyes matched the streetlights; they leaked tears that wet the collar of her blouse. Monika wanted to reach out to her, to reassure her, but she knew it was impossible right now. She only met the other girl’s gaze, trying to convey everything she was feeling at that moment in one long, lingering look.

 

_Please, Tomi. Can’t you feel this? Can’t you feel how much I love you?_

_Can’t you feel that I would – and have done – anything for you?_

“It’s my fault,” the girl whispered. Monika knew then that she hadn’t felt it, and she became angry again, angry at Sayori and how one foolish girl could ruin everything time and time again.

 

 _I’ll reset again,_ Monika thought, watching the way Tomi cried into Yuri’s shoulder. Watching the threat lurking on Natsuki’s face. _I’ll do it as many times as I have to. I’ll kill them again and again and again, Tomi…_

_…as long as it means we can be together at the end of it all._

Monika tossed the grief seed to Natsuki, who caught it in one swift motion.

 

“I suggest you share that between yourselves,” Monika said, trying to lighten her tone. “After all, you both used a lot of magic in that fight. And there’s one less magical girl in the city now.”

 

Tomi choked at this, face stricken. Yuri hovered over the human girl protectively, and Monika could see then that she would have to kill Yuri as well.

 

The hatred in her eyes was already beginning to take on that slow, reddening edge of madness.

 

 _That’s fine,_ Monika thought, brushing her ponytail back with her hand. _All I have to do is…_

_…give her a push._

“I’ll see you all tomorrow,” Monika chirped, pulling her cape around herself. Behind her, Tomi began to cry.

 

As much as she hated to hear Tomi cry, she knew it was necessary.

 

 _I’ll purge Sayori from your heart,_ Monika thought as she put distance between what she had done and what she would do. _I’ll be the one to save you this time._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) ~
> 
> it's a short one, but i kind of wanted a transition.
> 
> thank you as always!! <3


	18. I Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tomi enters Sayori's room. Natsuki finds Yuri alone.

* * *

“Protect the one thing you want to protect until the end.”

 

\--Kyouko Sakura, _Puella Magi Madoka Magica_

 

* * *

 

Sayori’s room was as she’d left it—but what had I expected? I creaked the door open slowly, slowly, almost as if I’d expected to see her there.

 

Her, or… that thing she’d become. _The remnants of her heart._ Or, rather, her soul.

 

My eyes went immediately to her bed, where I’d usually find her sleeping. Even when she wasn’t sleeping, Sayori used to lay in her bed, seemingly drained of any energy. On days where she didn’t bother to go to school, she’d lay under her comforter and stare at the ceiling. For hours. Who could do that? Who else, but Sayori.

 

I steeled myself against the wave of feelings that crashed into me with tsunamic force. I gritted my teeth against the pain that threatened to overtake me. Her blanket was peeled away, her sheets unwashed. I sat on the corner of her bed and buried my face in her pillows, letting them soak up my tears.

 

 _It still smells like her in here,_ I thought. So painfully familiar, when I’d only just been here, with _her_ , her as she still existed… her, squeezing the rotting gem that contained her soul in her tiny white hands. Her, eyes dull and unseeing, trying to fake a smile for me.

 

 _Why didn’t I just take her into my arms then?_ I reached for her phone, still sitting on the nightstand, plugged in. The screen was full of texts. Texts from me. One from Natsuki: _Where are you?_ One from Monika: _Remember what I said!_ I swiped at that one, the screen bleary from my leaking eyes.

 

That’s all the message said. I scrolled through their conversation, feeling dirty for snooping through her life. _It doesn’t matter anymore,_ I told myself. _I have to know what happened._

_I have to know what she meant._

But their text conversations had never been much deeper than, _Don’t forget your poem for tomorrow!_ And Sayori’s inevitable response, _I won’t, Moni! Thanks for reminding me!_

I tried to keep scrolling, but one of my tears splashed onto the screen, rendering it useless. I clicked the phone, locking it away from my prying eyes. _It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters._

I laid back on her bed, clutched her blanket and brought it to my face. “I wish you were here,” I said, my voice muffled. “I would do anything to change it.”

 

 _Would you really?_ A voice, not quite my own, took the bait. I thought of Sayori in her magical girl regalia, white-winged and beautiful and innocent. I thought of her soul, that beautiful cerulean, lined with gold. _She gave up her life for you. Why couldn’t you…_

I sat up. The blanket fell from my face, piling in my lap. _Could I? Could I bring you back?_

_Sayori._ I picked her phone up again, intent. _Can I have her here with me again? Can I…_

A piece of paper fell to the carpet, folded into a hard square. I’d knocked it off while reaching for her cell phone. I snatched at it, knowing she’d written it.

 

I peeled it open. It was scrawled in blue ink.

 

_Goodbye, and I’m sorry._

 

My fingers trembled. _What?_ When had she written it? Had she known about the witch conceived inside of her—could she have?

 

 _No,_ I thought, running the pad of my finger over the letters. _She didn’t know. Natsuki and Yuri didn’t know. So…_

I stood up. The note and the blanket crumpled on the floor beside the bed. I jerked the bottom drawer of her nightstand open, afraid of what I’d find.

 

Sure enough. I peeled through candy wrapper trash, graded assignments, busy work she’d never bothered to turn in. There was something coiled at the bottom, rough to the touch. I pulled the length of rope out like a poisonous snake, almost afraid it’d bite me.

 

 _She was going to kill herself._ I put the rope back in the drawer. Bile inched up my throat. _Either way… she was going to die._

I knelt on the floor, still with that ominous length of rope staring me in the face from the messy contents of her nightstand.

 

_Oh. Sayori._

_Is there a version of this where you stay here with me?_

* * *

 

Night came like velvet to the heart of the city. Yuri welcomed the cold, the wind in all of its fanged wintry glory. Layers of apathy had settled over her that she couldn’t bring herself to tear away. The park bench felt like ice beneath her bare thighs, but she found it fitting.

 

 _This is where you died._ She fingered the ring on her middle finger with her free hand. _This is the last place I saw you. The last place anyone saw you._

Yuri exhaled. Her breath silvered the air before her. She took a breath, and her lungs became dead with winter’s weight.

 

 _I’m dead already._ She clicked her nails on the rune-studded ring she bore on her hand. _What’s left of me is in here, quiet, waiting for corruption._

She hung her head, hair falling around her. The season’s first snow had begun to fall, only heavy enough to catch in the violet strands and stick. She wondered how long she could sit this way, alone in this park, illuminated by the full and bounteous moon.

 

 _Until something hatches in me, too._ She held her palm out before her. The ring disappeared, and her soul gem materialized. Still a bright purple, unclouded, clear.

 

_But am I delaying the inevitable?_

“Stop that.”

 

She lifted her head. Natsuki stood before her, hands on her hips. Like Yuri, she hadn’t bothered to change into heavier clothing, but she didn’t seem cold, either. Snowflakes had caught in her eyelashes and had just begun to melt, giving her the appearance of a woman on the verge of tears.

 

Yuri smiled at nothing in particular. “Stop what?”

 

“Looking at it.” Natsuki blinked. Icy water ran from the corners of her eyes. “I know what you’re thinking, you know.”

 

“Because you can read my thoughts.”

 

“Well, yeah. But it’s not just that, is it?”

 

Yuri sighed. The gem returned to its discrete form, a cold circle of iron around the base of her finger. It felt foreign, even though she’d worn it for what seemed like forever now.

 

Natsuki huffed. Her breath reminded Yuri of smoke, as though she were some sort of dragon preparing to breathe fire. “I know how you’re feeling right now.”

 

“Don’t you feel the same way?” Yuri met the other girl’s eyes. She had always thought of Natsuki as her rival, not quite an enemy but as someone to challenge, as someone she would forever remain at odds with. _But she’s the only one like me, now,_ Yuri thought. That alone made her want to fix whatever crumbling bridge lying between them.

 

Natsuki became quiet. To Yuri’s surprise, the smaller girl sat beside her on the bench, closing the gap between them. Their thighs threatened to touch. She sounded pensive when she spoke again. “No. I don’t think so. I can’t afford to think that way, because if I do… there won’t be any going back.”

 

“There’s no going back anyway.” Yuri laughed. It was like the _crack_ of a frozen body of water under her feet—it startled her, filled her with fear. _What’s wrong with me?_

 

Natsuki snapped her head to look at Yuri. She seemed shocked, too, at that laugh. “No! Stop saying that. Stop thinking like that. That’s what she _wants_ us to do.”

 

“Monika?” Yuri put her head back and closed her eyes. Snowflakes lit daintily on her eyelids. “She doesn’t care one way or the other.”

 

“I don’t know if she does or not.” Natsuki shifted next to her. Their legs _were_ touching. Yuri sat back up, curious at the urgency in the other girl’s voice. “But we can’t let her get to us. Yuri…” she paused, looked into the running water shooting from the park’s fountain. “What was it you wished for?”

 

“Nothing heroic.” Yuri laughed again, but it was softer, more like herself. “I wished to save myself from death. I went too far once, and now I have this… healing magic. But what good is it, you know? I can only heal myself. I’ve only ever healed myself.” She put her arms around herself, squeezing. “I’ve always been alone, and when I had a chance to make a difference… with Sayori and Tomi… I…”

 

“Stop.” Natsuki grabbed her by the crook of her arm and shook. Yuri blinked, startled. “Listen. You think the rest of us are some great heroes? That isn’t the _point._ ”

 

“Then what _is_ the point?”

 

Natsuki narrowed her eyes. “There isn’t one.”

 

“What did _you_ wish for, then? What was your big, life-changing wish?” Yuri’s tone became unintentionally sardonic.

 

Natsuki’s face fell for a moment. “It _definitely_ wasn’t heroic. It was to protect myself. And that’s why I have this protective magic, right?” She laughed a bit, too, high and girly. “I always thought to myself… what good is it, right? Who am I protecting? Myself? Isn’t that kind of redundant?” She lowered her head, smiling. “But I think some people are worth protecting.”

 

Yuri felt her face warming. “You think so?”

 

“I do. Listen—there are only two of us now, right?” Natsuki stared into the water fountain. “We have to stick together. We can’t let this happen again. So don’t let her get in your head, Yuri.”

 

Yuri’s eyes moistened. “But what if I can’t stop her?”

 

Natsuki grabbed her hand. They were no doubt as cold as Yuri’s own hands, but to her, they felt warm, fiery. “Then I will.”

 

Yuri began to cry, and Natsuki pulled her close. They sat like that, even as the snow piled around them, even as the moonlight began to burn away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't have much to say this time, except i'm having a lot of kyosaya feels asdfghlit;
> 
> thanks for reading!


	19. Your Legend Does Not Exist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monika reassures Tomi. Yuri comes to a realization.

* * *

_The Lady who Knows Everything knows what I am thinking._

_Before I can speak, she responds in a hollow voice._  
"I have found every answer, all of which amount to nothing.   
There is no meaning.   
There is no purpose.   
And we seek only the impossible.   
I am not your legend.   
Your legend does not exist."

\--“The Lady Who Knows Everything,” Monika [ _Doki Doki Literature Club!_ ]

* * *

 

 The minutes clicked into hours. Time had slowed to a trickle of water, flowing upside down, and I, karp-like, struggled against its currents. People flowed in and out of our clubroom, and I sat with what I felt was a mask on my face. A smile.

 

I sat in between Monika and Yuri, while Natsuki lingered on the far left side of the table. As numb as I felt, my other senses had heightened. Despite the festive occasion, the four of us sat, tension running between us like a tightening cord. _Do the other students coming in here not feel it?_

 

Monika spent the day leaned forward on her elbows, laughter like music. Other students lingered, charmed by her, by the room, the food. The club room was draped in billowy fabrics and banners engraved with Yuri’s calligraphy. I could smell jasmine, smoky and feminine. The pastries Natsuki and I had baked were artfully splayed on a small desk to the side.

 

And the pamphlets… they were lovely, simple. Everyone’s names were printed in script-like font, their poems in a clean serif beneath. I wasted too much time flipping through them, over and over again, and I kept reading the poem Sayori had chosen to print.

 

Half poem, half suicide note. Half cry for help. Half admonition of weakness, of failure.

 

_Too many halves._

“—she, Tomi?”

 

I was shaken from my reverie. A student I somewhat recognized from my class stood before me, eyebrows raised in what I perceived as concern. The pamphlet fell from my hands into my lap.

 

“What?”

 

He had blue eyes. I stared into them, mind empty. What was his name, again?

 

“Is Sayori okay? I haven’t heard from her, and I know you guys are good friends, so…”

 

My cheeks began to burn. _What do I say._ My fists balled up, buried in the fabric of my skirt. _How can I tell him that she’s gone, that there’s no way for me even to bury her?_

 

Yuri froze beside me, also seemingly taken aback by the question. Natsuki, too, seemed to have tensed.

 

But Monika put her hand on one of mine, closed it gently, protectively, over my fingers. She spoke in my stead, her voice smooth and blameless. “Sayori must be sick. We haven’t heard much from her. But I’m sure she’s fine. Okay?”

 

I turned to look at her, surprised at the lie that seemed to come so easily. But I realized I was watching something else happen between Monika and this faceless student—that she was hypnotizing him with her feline eyes, their rings of lush black lashes.

 

He became flustered. “O-okay, thank you! Thank you, Monika!” He turned around, seemingly having forgotten my lack of answers.

 

I sank back into my chair, feeling zapped of any energy I’d had in the first place. Monika still held my hand, and she gave me what seemed to be a sympathetic smile.

 

“I know it’s going to be hard for a while,” she said, voice low. “But if you’ll let me, I’ll take the burden for you.”

 

“People are going to start asking questions,” I said, averting my gaze. Everything about her was so earnest. It felt wrong, somehow, to give into her—even though a part of me wanted to. “Maybe even the police, or something. Her parents. I can’t… keep lying.”

 

Monika leaned closer to me. Her breath felt cool, minty, on my face. Her eyes snared me. “Leave it to me. I’m going to make everything go away. I promise.”

 

My heart ached at the sweetness in her voice. “Monika… you can’t make it go away.”

 

Something changed—a shadow, a crease, something flicked across her porcelain expression. She reminded me again of the girl who had come to me in my dreams, walking toward me, both flames and her red cape billowing around her. The apocalypse girl. White silk bow, and that same determination…

 

“Don’t doubt me, Tomi. There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” The tension passed from her face. She began to smile again, and with that, she turned away from me, rising to greet another group of girls who had wandered into the classroom.

 

I watched her go, my gaze falling on the span of ivory between her black thigh highs and her uniform skirt. As sleazy as it felt, I wanted to trust in Monika. I wanted her to hold my hand again, to pull me close to her and make the nightmare my life had become disappear.

 

 _Does Monika really have that power?_ I leaned forward, letting my head rest at last on my hands.

 

“Tomi?” Yuri leaned closer to me. “Are you okay? What did she say to you?”

 

“Nothing, really.” I played with a piece of my hair.

 

“Don’t trust her.” Her voice was low, urgent. “I don’t know what she told Sayori, but… something isn’t right. You see that, too, don’t you?”

 

“I don’t know.” I remembered how I used to feel about Monika—her secrets, her somehow elusive way of answering questions she didn’t want to answer, her seductive and alluring power that remained just over my head. _Was I intimidated by her because I didn’t know that she wanted to protect me?_

Natsuki slammed the flat of her palm onto the surface of the table next to me. Some of the other students pulled away from Monika, curious, but Natsuki’s voice was a whisper. Even _she_ seemed afraid of Monika…

 

“Don’t be an idiot. You saw what happened to Sayori, right? She’s up to something. I don’t know what… but she’s up to _something._ ”

 

Yuri, on my other side, nodded. “Why else let Sayori become a witch? Why else keep all of this information from us? Monika doesn’t have our best interests at heart I’m afraid…”

 

“We don’t really know that, though.” I stood, letting my chair scrape against the linoleum. “I don’t trust her entirely… but if I write her off now, we may be letting a lot of information we need to go.”

 

“You think you can outsmart her?” Natsuki scoffed. She pulled away from me, but I could tell I’d pissed her off. _What’s new._ “Don’t come crying to me when she tricks you into making a mistake you can’t undo.”

 

“Natsuki…” Yuri said, her voice almost a whisper in comparison.

 

The shorter girl shot a nasty look my way. “Fine. But I can only do so much. I’m only one person, and I’m worried…” she flicked her gaze over to where Monika stood.

 

As she did, Monika turned back to us, smile brilliant, that popular girl smile that gave everyone but us—the three of us—unending warmth. It was as though she knew we were talking about her.

 

And who was to say she didn’t?

 

_Who can I trust?_

“I’m worried she already knows what’s going to happen to us,” Natsuki finished, meeting Monika’s gaze with one that seemed full of hatred.

 

_And I wonder if she does._

* * *

 

 The nights had become bitter, and Yuri had begun to feel it, from the surface of her skin to the inner hollows of her bones. She shivered along the streets of her city, clinging to the shadows. It was her method to skulk, hidden, like an alley cat, cloaked in darkness but for the brilliant violet light she used to guide her path.

 

_It’s how I’ve walked everywhere. How I’ve lived._

 

One becomes accustomed to loneliness. It starts out like a parasite with rows of teeth, but once it’s burrowed its way into the cavity of your heart, it makes its home there. Loneliness can become almost comfortable, a way to exist without ever being detected.

 

Yuri supposed that it was an optimal way to hunt witches and creatures of the night, even if it did leave her aching alone at night, wanting more, wanting forever more.

 

Before Sayori and Tomi had joined the literature club—and, by extension, the world of magic running rampant under its surface—Yuri had existed this way. Monika had made the contract, had served as a loose guide, but the two had never become friends. There had been some kind of barrier that Yuri had perceived between them. The same had been true for Natsuki, although the other girl had really proven to be a rival, one competing against her for the city’s supply of grief seeds.

 

She stopped for a moment, listening to the sound of her own heartbeat. Her gem began to glow. _It’s here._

She opened the labyrinth, stepped into it, descending into an icy cavern where her breath glowed like a dragon’s fire.

 

 _I thought I had found my friends,_ she thought, pushing forward, through the stalactites reaching for her through cracked, snow-dusted concrete. She drew her blades, smashed the screaming icicles into glassy shards. _I thought I had ended the loneliness, the pain…_

_The pain that I wished into existence by becoming this._

Yuri avoided a swipe from the witch’s minion. In retaliation, she kicked into it, sending it into a blackened chasm. She could hear it squeal from the depths.

 

_I’ve been so alone, and I never realized that it was impossible for me to be anything else._

She dropped into the chasm, sending puffs of snow to either side of her. The witch skated towards her on spiked roller skates; it had parachute wings, a warbling laugh. Yuri braced herself for an impact she could not avoid in time; the tip of one wing had slashed into her arm, letting blood fly into the snowbanks.

 

“Nice try,” she murmured. She held her hand over the wound, and it closed with a violet flash of magic. “My turn.”

 

_I’m starting to think it’s true—that it’s inevitable that I become one of these beasts._

Flying forward with the force of her magic, Yuri slashed at the witch’s right wing. The creature shrieked incomprehensibly.

 

_And I can feel myself losing what little I used to be able to hold onto—whatever noble reason I told myself I was doing this for._

Yuri kicked the witch onto its back. Its mouth gaped at her, mushy and red and repulsive.

 

_Even though Natsuki thinks we can beat her…_

She plunged both knives into the witch’s chest, up to the hilt. It sprayed her face with an icy blood. It twisted around the cold steel buried in its body.

 

_…I can feel myself losing already._

She rose, wiping the bile from her face. The witch shrieked with laughter as it died, as the labyrinth began to shrink and warp around her.

 

_I just put my knives into a girl, a girl just like me or Sayori or Natsuki. I just killed someone._

Yuri buried her face in her hands, her sob a hiccup.

 

_And someday…_

_Someday someone is going to do the same thing to me._


	20. Breathing sky. Breathing wheel.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A rotating wheel. Turning an axle. Grinding. Bolthead. Linear gearbox. Falling sky. Seven holy stakes. A docked ship. A portal to another world. A thin rope tied to a thick rope. A torn harness. Parabolic gearbox. Expanding universe. Time controlled by slipping cogwheels. Existence of God. Swimming with open water in all directions. Drowning. A prayer written in blood. A prayer written in time-devouring snakes with human eyes. A thread connecting all living human eyes. A kaleidoscope of holy stakes. Exponential gearbox. A sky of exploding stars. God disproving the existence of God. A wheel rotating in six dimensions. Forty gears and a ticking clock. A clock that ticks one second for every rotation of the planet. A clock that ticks forty times every time it ticks every second time. A bolthead of holy stakes tied to the existence of a docked ship to another world.

* * *

A kaleidoscope of blood written in clocks. A time-devouring prayer connecting a sky of forty gears and open human eyes in all directions. Breathing gearbox. Breathing bolthead. Breathing ship. Breathing portal. Breathing snakes. Breathing God. Breathing blood. Breathing holy stakes. Breathing human eyes. Breathing time. Breathing prayer. Breathing sky. Breathing wheel.

 

\--“Wheel,” by Yuri [ _Doki Doki Literature Club_ ]

* * *

 

I, like the coward I’d become, clung to the shadows as Yuri flew into a witch like a jungle cat attacking its prey. I watched her body, lithe and twisting with adrenaline, dodge blows and administer them with equal precision. Her hair swung around her like the black tendrils of a cat-o-nine-tails, and she was like that—like a device used for pain, for torture, absorbing every scream, dealing back the agony.

 

And I watched her, knowing something wasn’t right. That something had changed in Yuri. It wasn’t even just the way she fought, although it was that too—that it had become less like a battle between two forces, and more like a bloodthirsty hunt. She had once considered herself an admin of justice, but I saw none of that now, not in the way she wielded her blades like a predator baring its fangs.

 

Blood from the witch’s body stained her white skirt. It wasn’t dead yet—it was some kind of humanoid witch, and it wailed like a hurt animal before her.

 

 _Is it crying for mercy,_ I thought, resting my heart on my chest, _or is it begging her to finish the job?_

“Yuri…” my voice was soft, but in the strange acoustics of the labyrinth, it carried. She turned to me, only for a split second, and her face terrified me into silence.

 

 _Those eyes._ Yuri, my friend, the gentle one, the reader—her eyes were stretched beyond capacity, and her pupils were tiny, flinty.

 

She smiled at me, but it was the kind of smile that I wanted to flee from.

 

“Just wait there.” Yuri turned back to her prey, and I thought I could see it inch away from her. “I’m almost finished.”

 

She decapitated the witch with a crossing motion, her blades creating an “x” in its ethereal flesh.

 

The labyrinth began to fade around us, like smoke on a windy day. Yuri was panting, almost imperceptibly, from her efforts. As I watched, she raised one of those knives to her face, and my fight-or-flight instincts began to ring an alarm inside of my head. She looked at the blood-slick steel as though she wanted to lick it.

 

“Yuri,” I said, louder, hoping to jostle her out of her strange reverie.

 

She turned to me, hair drenched in blood, a streak of crimson across her nose. “What? What is it? What do you want?”

 

“Um… is there a grief seed?” I scrambled, terrified of the way she was looking at me.

 

Her eyes widened further, which I didn’t think was possible. “Oh, I hadn’t thought about that.” She kicked around the pool of blood that I could smell from where I stood. “I don’t see one.”

 

“Was it just a familiar?”

 

“No. Well—I don’t know. I don’t know.” She started laughing. I could feel my skin prickle. “I don’t know. Isn’t that crazy? I don’t really care anymore.”

 

“You used a lot of magic,” I said. Yuri spun on her heel to face me again, and she allowed herself to lose her regalia. In her uniform again, she looked less frightening, less energized—but something was off, and I could still feel that strange angry static rolling off of her.

 

She presented her soul gem to me, intricate and elegant in its carved golden cage. It had begun to blacken a little, but it was nothing like Sayori’s had been.

 

“It takes a lot for me to get so dark,” she said. But she sounded more grounded, and that allowed me to slump a little.

 

“Maybe you should go home. Here, I’ll walk you. You should get some sleep.” I approached her, but she stiffened at my words.

 

“Why? What’s the matter, Tomi? Is something wrong?” Her strange eyes found mine, and I began to think about Sayori again.

 

It wasn’t the same at all, though. Sayori had been almost dead herself, lethargic. She had given up, in a way. Yuri had a kind of mania, a wide-eyed psychotic energy that felt terrifying rather than simply concerning.

 

“Are you… are you okay?”

 

“Yuri!”

 

Natsuki’s voice. Relief washed over me. Only one person could talk sense into Yuri, right? _And it clearly isn’t me._ I saw her, in plainclothes like Yuri and myself, at the end of the deadend alley we’d tracked the witch into.

 

She stepped into the amber glow of the street lamp. “Yuri. You need to listen to her. You think you can fight like this?” She inclined her head, and as she did, I noticed how heavily Yuri was breathing. It had become somewhat ragged. Somewhat feral.

 

“You think I can’t fight?” Yuri glared at Natsuki. “Of course you would say that. You want it all to yourself, don’t you?”

 

“I want _what_ to myself?” Natsuki looked puzzled.

 

“All the witches! All the grief seeds!” Yuri’s anger was as cold and swift as her knives. “You haven’t really changed, have you? You’ll never change. You don’t care about me.”

 

Natsuki had become visibly shaken at this point. Something was happening behind her face that I couldn’t interpret. I went to her side, put my arm around her shoulder, and for once, she let me. “What are you _talking_ about?” She semi-shouted. “I’ve done _nothing_ but go out of my way to help you!”

 

“You’re a selfish bitch,” Yuri spat. She fixed Natsuki with a frantic stare. “If you cared about me, then—then—you would kill Monika!”

 

 _What!_ I could feel my heart slow a few beats. _She can’t be serious._

Natsuki had tensed under my arm. She looked at Yuri with an expression of hurt so open and bare that it hurt me to see. “You want that?” Her voice had fallen several octaves, was almost a whisper.

 

“I don’t care what you do.” Yuri turned her back on us. Her blood-dried hair slapped at her face. “None of you mean anything to me. I can’t help you, and you can’t help me, so… what’s the point?” She laughed again, a crackle that reminded me of dead channel static on a TV.

 

“I don’t care if you don’t care.” Natsuki broke away from me and grabbed Yuri by the elbow. “You’re going to go home with Tomi, and you’re going to go to bed. Or I’ll beat the shit out of you. Don’t think I won’t. I’ve done it before.”

 

Startled, Yuri looked down at her. The spell had been broken, if only momentarily.

 

Natsuki went on, through gritted teeth: “You aren’t going down like this. You hear me? I’m not going to let it happen. Go home. Go to sleep. Don’t you even think about hunting witches tomorrow. We’ll do something else, okay? We’ll go somewhere, anywhere.”

 

Yuri said nothing, but her eyes had begun to water. I clasped my hands over my heart, breathless from the exchange.

 

“Something is—is—really wr-wrong with me, is—isn’t it?” She began to sniffle, and then began to cry. “I d-don’t know why I s-said that… please forgive me. Oh, god, please forgive me.”

 

Natsuki grabbed her around the waist and held her as she cried. I felt myself begin to tear up too. _What are we supposed to do now? Is there any going back?_

And I knew, somehow, that there wasn’t. Not for Yuri. Not for Natsuki.

 

_And not for Sayori._

I had been here, where Natsuki was now. I had held Sayori as she cried and trembled. And look, look where it had gotten her.

 

_I’m sorry, Natsuki._

It was as though she had decided to read my thoughts because as I thought it, she swung her eyes my way. They were panicky.

 

 _There has to be something we can do,_ I thought.

 

I knew what I had to do, even if the idea gave me mind-breaking anxiety.

 

_Monika. I have to ask her to help us. I have to beg her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love act 2 of ddlc lmao
> 
> i love crazy yandere yuri so much asgtgiheth;
> 
> anyway thanks for all the really great commentary y'all have been giving me. i try to respond to everyone but if i forget feel free to let me know.


	21. Don't Let Her Know I Wrote This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tomi asks for Monika's help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning. Self-harm and suicidal thoughts. Read at your own risk.

_As for Monika... I don't know why, but she's been really_ _dismissive about this. It's like she just wants us to ignore it. So I'm mad at her right now, and that's why I'm coming to you about this. DON'T LET HER KNOW I WROTE THIS!!!! Just pretend like I gave you a really good poem, okay? I'm counting on you. Thanks for reading._

\--Natsuki’s Message, _Doki Doki Literature Club!_

 

* * *

_White sheets, ruined._

Yuri kneeled, hair falling into a dark curtain around her face. Everything seemed hot to her—why was that, she wondered? Why did everything seem so overbearing now? And it did, so frantic, so intense—even her normal emotions had begun to spiral into some tornadic whirlwind—

 

_I have red sheets now._

So she did. She dragged a palm, ragged, over the surface of her bedding. The lights had been dimmed. She was alone in the home. Heard nothing. Nothing.

 

No voices—right?

 

No static—right?

 

_But what is it I’m hearing right now?_

Yuri reached for her nightstand’s top drawer. There it was, her favorite knife, a simple pocketknife with an amethyst embedded into its handle—cheap, poorly made, but…

 

She lifted it, flicked the blade into the open. Her lamplight, low and orange-golden like a sweeping dusk, gave it a cheap, horrific illumination. A prop, that’s what it looked like to her.

 

_It’s more than that. So much more._

Comfort. Safety. Security.

 

She licked the edge of the blade with a slow, dragging motion; her tongue, numb to everything but pain, began to bleed slowly from its tip to the left-center. Her mouth filled with superficial blood.

 

_I’ve forgotten this feeling._

The room seemed to shrink around her. She lowered her knife to the sheets, then pressed her cheek into its cool blade. She wondered, briefly, if it would freeze to her cheek.

 

_Monika can’t hear me in here._

_Monika can’t see me._

_Monika can’t know…_

She began to laugh. It was soft, almost imperceptible, but the motion racked her body, caused her bed to shift beneath her. Everything seemed so fragile—would she break the bed, she wondered?

 

_Will I break myself?_

Yuri sat upright. The blade grew heavy as she lifted it into her hand. Grew important.

 

 _Nothing more than a weapon._ It wasn’t, either, was it—it had the same purpose as her own magic knives, right?

 

_To punish. To hurt._

She carefully dragged the blade down the white flesh of her left wrist. The blood sprang from the torn skin, bright and vulgar, and she clamped her lips shut, ashamed of her excitement.

 

“There’s nothing I can do about it,” she murmured to herself. She pulled her soul gem into the lamplight with her other hand. The bleeding wound healed before her eyes.

 

“What’s the point of anything I do,” she said, making another cut.

 

The cut healed.

 

“I… can’t… do… this.”

 

Blood streaked across both forearms. Her soul gem, flashing like a lighthouse beacon, began to heal the wounds.

 

 _It can’t heal the old ones, though,_ she thought, running the tip of her blade over the thick white scars hatched across the insides of her arms. _How poetic. I should have just died. I never should have let Monika into my head._

She fingered the cool glass of her soul gem. She thought of the four of them, the four magical girls in the city. Herself, panicked, fading, the blood smell sharp in the air. Natsuki, bruised and wishing for freedom. Sayori on her knees in front of Monika, begging.

 

_And who granted Monika’s wish? What did she wish for?_

 

Yuri sobbed raggedly. However, almost without her noticing, it had begun to taper off—into a horrific laughter that rang throughout her room. Everything had stopped—the bleeding, the ticking of the clock, time itself.

 

“I’m dying,” she said. But it wasn’t a scary thought.

 

She simply found it funny. 

 

* * *

 

 

Monika could feel the threads she’d cast becoming taut, preparing to snap. Psychic spiderwebs she’d laid, live wires that connected her to Natsuki, Yuri. Connected her to Sayori, even in death.

 

And, of course, to Tomi.

 

She put her hand over chest. The night had grown deep, velvety; it was that point past midnight that verged on the mystical. _The witching hour._ And how fitting, she thought without a hint of smugness.

 

 _The witching hour, the haunting hour._ And which of her threads had become frayed? She knew, she could feel Yuri’s sickness inside of her like a diseased organ.

 

 _That’s my curse,_ she mused, pulling the hood of her scarlet cape over her head. A light snow had begun to fall, and she hated when the feeling of the flakes melting in her hair. _I’m their curse, and they are mine. When they die, at this point… does part of me truly go with them?_

_Is that why I feel like there’s so little left of me now?_ She felt her heartbeat, slow and laborious beneath her breastbone. _Am I nothing more than a soulless husk?_

But how could that be, she wondered. The snow dusted the slick surface of the building she stood against. The sidewalk began to collect its crystals. Everything became silvery, aided by the aggressive glow of the starlight. _I have all of their souls inside of me, don’t I? Doesn’t that make up for not having my own anymore?_

She fingered the iron band around her middle finger. Set with emerald, it was the most beautiful thing she owned.

 

But really, didn’t it own her?

 

 _Is that what color our souls are, really? Is it some sort of psychic glow, some kind of pagan aura?_ She ran her pinky nail over the emerald again, and shivered. _They start that way, green, purple, pink, blue, but then… we all end up the same on the inside, don’t we._

She stiffened. _Footsteps._

 

But she relaxed when she realized who it was. Tomi, wandering below, feet skittering against the sidewalk in snow boots. Monika exhaled, admiring the smoky quality of her breath, before she leapt from the darkness that had concealed her.

 

“Hey,” she said, smiling despite herself. Tomi had a trenchcoat belted around her waist and black leather gloves. Her dark hair was loose, for once, ruffled around her lightly freckled face. Tomi’s limpid amber eyes mimicked the streetlights.

 

“Monika.” The other girl smiled, seemingly relieved. “I’ve been looking for you.”

 

“Oh?” Monika leaned forward, letting her hood obscure her eyes. “I wonder why?”

 

“Well.” Tomi shoved her gloved hands into her coat pockets. “I want to talk about Yuri.”

 

 _Oh._ Monika’s smile faded. _Don’t tell me…_

“What about Yuri?”

 

“She isn’t… she isn’t acting right.” Tomi’s voice seemed to catch. “I’m worried. I’m actually really worried, and so is Natsuki…”

 

“Why don’t you stop worrying about what Yuri and Natsuki are doing?” Monika hadn’t meant to snap, but her emotions had gotten ahead of her brain again. She took a small breath, attempted to smooth her ruffled feathers. “They’re too far gone. I want you to know that, Tomi, because I _really_ care about you.”

 

“Too far gone?” Tomi looked at her, and Monika could tell she had become afraid. Afraid of what—of _her_? Or of the inevitable shadows creeping up on the other girls?

 

Monika reached for Tomi, but the other girl refrained from holding her hand.

 

“I’m sorry, Tomi, but you can’t help Yuri anymore,” Monika said, her voice low. “Nobody can help her anymore.”

 

“ _You_ can’t?” The other girl’s voice became high pitched. “But _why_? If you can make the contracts, then _why_ can’t you stop this from happening?”

 

“I can only do what I can do.” Monika tried for a sympathetic tone. “Look—why don’t you and I go for a walk? I can try and explain everything, but I really just need—”

 

“ _Monika!_ ”

 

 _Oh, what now._ She stiffened again, this time with irritation. _I can feel myself growing angrier with every passing second._

 

She turned, only to see Natsuki, her dress fluffy around her knees and her spear brandished. The glowing pink sphere at her weapon’s tip shone unnaturally in the silver moonlight.

 

“Can I help you, Natsuki? You’re interrupting our conversation,” Monika said, tone sharp.

 

“I’ll interrupt you right through your heart,” Natsuki replied, her voice a low growl. “Say to me what you just said to her— _I want you to say it_!”

 

“Why, weren’t you eavesdropping the whole time?” She dared to become smug, to remove her hood. “I can’t really remember what it was I said… maybe you could remind me?” Her hands went to the hilt hidden at her hips, brushed over the handle of her gun.

 

“I _know_ you did something to Yuri. Probably to Sayori too. What I’m wondering is, if I kill you, will it fix it?”

 

Monika blinked, surprised. _This has never happened before._ Natsuki usually died in one of two ways—she either became a rabid witch, and Monika or Yuri put her to bed, or she was killed by another witch. Monika had never had to fight her before—and the prospect did not amuse her.

 

“Are you sure you want to go there, Natsuki?”

 

“Nat!” Tomi. Monika had partially forgotten about her. “No, please don’t start a fight right now. That’s not going to solve anything!”

 

“I don’t care.” Natsuki pointed the tip of her spear at Monika’s chest— _through_ her chest. “Even if it doesn’t save Yuri, it’ll make me feel better!”

 

“You know what? Let’s do it.” Monika pulled her weapon, cocked it. “Are you really stupid enough to fight someone who uses firearms with your stupid close-range weapon? I’ll put a bullet in your skull before you take one more step.”

 

“ _No_!” Tomi had begun to run closer to Monika. “Please, don’t do anything to her! She doesn’t know what she’s doing, she’s just _worried_ …”

 

“If she’s dead, she won’t have to worry about Yuri anymore,” Monika said, voice cold. She had forgotten her façade, for a moment. She was tired, tired of Natsuki, tired of Yuri, tired of the same endless cycle where she could never get what she wanted—

 

“Natsuki?” Tomi stepped closer, concerned.

 

The other girl lowered her weapon. Her face wore an expression like broken glass.

 

“I have to find Yuri,” she said. And with that, she was gone.

 

“Natsuki!” Tomi took off after her, slipping slightly on the icy sidewalk.

 

_Oh, fuck._

Monika watched them go for a moment.

 

She knew why Natsuki had gone. She’d heard it, too.

 

That disturbance in the air, the psychic scream that had penetrated every sensation Monika had.

 

_It’s happening._


	22. Her Third Eye is Drawing Me Closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri gives up.

* * *

Fresh blood seeps through the line parting her skin and slowly colors her breast red. I begin to hyperventilate as my compulsion grows. The images won’t go away. Images of me driving the knife into her flesh continuously, fucking her body with the blade, making a mess of her. My head starts going crazy as my thoughts start to return. Shooting pain assaults my mind along with my thoughts. This is disgusting. Absolutely disgusting. How could I ever let myself think these things? But it’s unmistakable. The lust continues to linger through my veins. An ache in my muscles stems from the unreleased tension experienced by my entire body. Her Third Eye is drawing me closer.

 

\--Yuri, “ ** _mdpnfbo,jrfp:_ ” **_[Doki Doki Literature Club!]_

* * *

 

 I rubbed at my arms, stung by the cold, by the fear I was feeling—as I staggered through the city streets, my path lit only by the half-swole moon.

 

 _“Go home,”_ Monika had told me. Natsuki hadn’t disagreed. The two of them had gone to find Yuri—and for once, I couldn’t disobey them. I didn’t _want_ to find Yuri… not like this. _Not like last time._

 

The truth was that I didn’t know what I’d find. Who I’d find. There was no guarantee that Yuri was still _Yuri_ , right? I closed my eyes, my heart aching under my breastbone. The pain that shot through me was almost physical, red and raw and intense.

 

_I still see you everywhere… Sayori._

 

 _But I wish I could keep you as you were in my mind’s eye._ Instead… every time I thought of her, my dearest friend—I saw glass, a panicked and wicked demon smashing its own skull between two shadowy claws. Rainclouds. My own screams, falling on deaf ears.

 

_And I can’t go through it again. It might kill me._

My eyes began to water. My path blurred in front of me. Before I realized it, I was crying, caught once more in a spiral of regret. _And guilt._ Because who had Sayori sacrificed her humanity for? Who could have stopped her?

 

_I should have made the contract before her._

_Maybe this never would have happened._

I closed my hands, raw and numb from the cold air, and let my nails bite into my palms. I almost welcomed the pain. When I allowed myself to think about Sayori—which was not often now—I became paralyzed with self-loathing.

 

_What good is there left in this world?_

“Ha… ha…”

 

I paused. _Where is that coming from?_ Hastily, I swiped at my misty eyes. The night had been almost silent before, but that voice—it was unmistakably… panting, frantic.

 

“Who’s there?” My voice cracked on the last syllable; I hadn’t realized just how frightened I still was. But of what? What could harm me?

 

_Anything. This world is full of horrible things that I never knew about._

“Just a ghost.” There, from the shadows, limped a strange figure, face nearly concealed with thick dark hair. I flinched—she was like a horrific, twisted demon—but then I realized who it was.

 

“Yuri! Are you hurt?”

 

She was in her magical girl uniform, white and purple dress. Even in the darkness, however, I could see that it was splashed with blood. _A lot of blood._ The sleeves on her dress her tattered.

 

“Me?” Yuri looked up at me as though she had forgotten I was there. “No, no. I actually feel—very alive.” Her eyes. I was seeing her eyes for the first time, and the dread that rushed into me was like nothing else.

 

Stretched to capacity, her pupils had shrunk into bouncing pinpricks. Her smile was like nothing I’d seen on a human before—giddy, but almost terribly so. I could see blood and chunks of something else caught in the hair around her face.

 

“What happened to you?” I spoke, hoarse, afraid. I wanted to recoil from her. _Yuri. It’s only Yuri. She’s my friend. She needs my help._

But—no. Yuri looked into my eyes and began to visibly excite herself. Her breasts heaved with the staggered breaths she took. “Tomi. Oh, Tomi! I’ve wanted to find you. I’ve wanted to talk with you. Can we talk? Because there’s something I want to know.”

 

I could say nothing, do nothing. I simply stared at her, my instincts screaming at me. She kept walking closer, and I noticed the knives in her hands, swinging and catching the starlight with each upturn.

 

“I know you really cared about Sayori,” she said, her voice brittle. “I know you _love_ Monika. But what about me? How do you feel about me?”

 

“What?” I choked, attempting to shy away from her erratic approach. “Yuri—please stay where you are! Don’t come any closer!”

 

“Why?” Her smile disappeared. “Are you afraid, Tomi? Are you afraid of me?”

 

“ _Yuri!_ ”

 

Natsuki. I began to shake; my knees no longer supported me in my terror. Natsuki caught me as I began to crumble. She set me upright, then further approached Yuri, effectively becoming a barrier between us.

 

“Hey—talk to me. What’s going on?” Natsuki’s face betrayed her fear. “Wh—what _happened_?”

 

“Nat.” Yuri smiled again. “I—I’m afraid I’ve made a mistake. Oh… well… I’ve made _a lot_ of mistakes. But you know what I’m talking about, don’t you?”

 

“No…” Natsuki’s voice trailed off. For once, she was speechless.

 

Yuri continued, swaying as she spoke. “I—I always thought of myself as a protector. A fighter. I tried so hard for so long. But—but I wasn’t able to do it in the end.” She began to laugh to herself. “Monika… Monika.”

 

“Who?” Natsuki stepped closer. “Wait—what are you—”

 

“I’m sorry, Natsuki,” Yuri said. She faced us both. Her arms dripped blood. “I’m afraid I’ve failed you.”

 

“No. _No._ We aren’t—you can’t fail me, Yuri. No matter what. I won’t let this happen. _I won’t let it!_ ” Her voice broke, and for the first time, I could see tears in her eyes. “Don’t leave me. Yuri. _Don’t go._ ”

 

Yuri began to laugh. “I—I’m gone already.” She stumbled. The soul gem embedded in her hand—usually a lovely purple—had begun to blacken from the inside, almost as if something inside of her had attempted to claw its way out.

 

_And it has._

 

Yuri put her head into her hands and began to laugh maniacally. As she did, the world opened up around us—the shadows began their demonic vortex. I began to shout, to grab for Natsuki’s hand, but she had leapt for Yuri.

 

I just barely grasped her fingers—and with all of my might, I yanked her away.

 

That black tornado swallowed Yuri’s limp body, swallowed the streetlamps in front of us, but the two of us fell to the side, shielded only by Natsuki’s outstretched hand. A pink barrier had been constructed the instant the labyrinth had tried to swallow us.

 

“Oh my god.” I began to cry. “What are we going to do?”

 

Natsuki slammed her fist into the ground. “I can’t leave her in there. I can’t leave her alone.”

 

“But if we go in there… won’t it try to kill us?”

 

“I… I think so.” Natsuki began to cry, but her face was set into an expression of rage. “I won’t let this happen. _I promised her I wouldn’t!_ ”

 

“Nat… we can’t…”

 

“I’m not leaving her in there.” The barrier lifted. Natsuki stood up, teeth set into a determined scowl. “I have to go in with her.”

 

“But what if you get hurt?” I grabbed her arm, my desperation showing in the force of my grip. “I can’t go through this again.”

 

“It’s not about you this time.” Natsuki pulled her arm away from me. “This is between me and Yuri.”

 

Without thinking, I stepped closer. “Then let me go with you.”

 

“ _What_?” Natsuki turned back towards me. Her face was set in a half-sneer, half-sob. Her voice threatened to break. “I just said it has nothing to do with you. Let me handle it!”

 

“No. No matter what you say… you’re my friend.” I began to choke up again. My heart filled with the tears that never seemed to end—tears like the rainfall in Sayori’s labyrinth, in Sayori’s head. “And… and… so is Yuri. Let me go with you. I can’t… keep being a coward.”

 

There. I’d said it. _Coward._

Natsuki grabbed my hands. Her eyes met mine, and they were tear-filled, but they were also determined. “Okay. But I can’t promise you that you won’t get hurt this time. I don’t know if… I don’t know if I can get her to come back. But maybe I can. Maybe _we_ can. If we both… if we both try.”

 

“You think so?” I dared to hope, if only for a second.

 

“Anything is possible, right?” She tightened her grip. I could feel, too, that she had hope.

 

I nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> open your third eye ;;


	23. And I'm Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And I'm home.

* * *

 

I just can't let you go it hurts, you know?

Every time I hear your name

I'm right here by your side, I'm right here by your side!

So won’t you please just please come back to me?

Never ending these feelings inside, even if they're left behind…

 

  * “And I’m Home” [KyoSaya Song] (original: wowaka; cover: Queen Koko & Lizz Robinett)



 

* * *

 

_And just what kind of hellscape is this?_

 

Natsuki clenched the hand that held her weapon tighter. She could feel Tomi’s fear behind her, palpable, visceral; it had more of a presence than the girl’s physical self did in Yuri’s labyrinth.

 

_Yuri’s labyrinth._

Natsuki thought they had wandered into a science lab of some sort. It was clinical, hospital-like, barbed wire racing across the doorways like curtains. Faceless people in surgical masks marched about, their eyes missing, visibly and violently gouged.

 

“What is this place supposed to be,” she murmured, her voice carrying in the bad acoustics of the “building” they walked the halls of.

 

There was no answer. The lights flickered. Tomi’s breath was ragged and intense.

 

Finally, an answer. “I think it’s a concentration camp. Or an experimentation lab.”

 

“Why?” Natsuki’s chest began to ache. “Why would that be in her head?”

 

“I don’t know. Well—it was in her book. Right? _The Portrait of Markov._ ” Tomi sounded far away. “I should have read more of it—maybe I would know what was going on.”

 

“I don’t think it would have helped much.” Natsuki quickened her pace without meaning to; their footsteps echoed, erratic and heavy. Fog seemed to swirl about their feet. The faceless men in the surgical masks ignored them, pretended they hadn’t wandered in, perhaps couldn’t see them at all.

 

_Who stole their eyes?_

Natsuki paused. The gloom had begun to affect her, had begun to paralyze her façade. Bravery—what a joke. What had it ever done for her, after all?

 

_I was brave for myself, and it got my father killed. I was brave for Yuri, and she became a witch anyway. What good is it to hide my pain? Why can’t I just let myself hurt like everyone else?_

And she hurt. Oh, she fucking hurt.

 

Tomi shifted behind her, antsy. “Are you okay?”

 

Natsuki laughed, but it was splintered, irreparable. “No. No, I’m not.”

 

Tomi waited. The two of them stood together, silent. The human girl hugged the magical girl from behind, buried her face in Natsuki’s hair.

 

Natsuki grabbed her stomach, suddenly wracked with the emotions she had worked so hard to contain—agony, rage, and the terrifying thought of what awaited her at the center of this horrific labyrinth. _Yuri. Yuri. I won’t let you go like this. I don’t care what happens. I don’t care._

“Let’s keep going,” Tomi said, her voice quiet.

 

 _She’s right._ Natsuki put her hands on Tomi’s and gently removed them from around her waist. _And she knows how I’m feeling, doesn’t she?_

“Are you okay, Tomi?”

 

“I—I’m afraid of what we’re going to find. Because I already know how much it hurts.”

 

“I’m willing to bet it hurts them more.”

 

“You think so? You think they know what they’re doing?” Tomi sounded surprised at the idea.

 

“I’m not sure.” _Wouldn’t that be worse, if they did?_ “But either way… you’re right. We should keep going. Stay close to me. Don’t do anything stupid.”

 

“I’ll try,” Tomi said, partially joking.

 

The two of them continued on, and it was then that Natsuki began to _remember_.

 

_To grieve._

She had always been a social girl. She was never like Yuri, clinging to the edges of every social circle to avoid hurt. In fact, Natsuki had taken an entirely different approach—put herself out there, bare her throat to the wolves, knowing one just might take a bite. In return, she had achieved some semblance of normalcy in her school life, one that she desperately wished she could reflect elsewhere.

 

At home…

 

_Yuri said her wish wasn’t noble. If only I could have told her what mine was. Why didn’t I?_

The truth was, Natsuki didn’t broadcast what had led her to become a magical girl. She wasn’t proud of it; she wasn’t ashamed of it. But to think about it caused her immense pain, and she couldn’t risk continuously wasting magic to cleanse her soul gem every time the thought crossed her mind.

 

_Rain._

 

She remembered that it was raining and that the sky had nearly blackened.

 

In the present, Natsuki paused again. “She’s coming.”

 

She could feel Tomi tense behind her.

 

Sure enough, Yuri—or what had once been Yuri—materialized from the foggy mass before them. Barbed wire hung from her white-cloaked shoulders, dragging the ground like chains. Her nearly-black hair flowed to the ground. Her face was completely concealed by a Noh-like mask—it was the mask of a raccoon, realistic, almost as if it had been carefully flayed from a piece of roadkill and sewed onto a mannequin’s face.

 

Tomi shrieked, startled at the grotesqueness of this witch. Natsuki gritted her teeth, nearly overcome with outrage.

 

“Yuri!” She lowered her spear. _Foolish move._ But she couldn’t bring herself to raise it again. Not yet—not when she didn’t know if Yuri was still inside of that monster. Still listening, still breathing.

 

In the past, Natsuki crouched against the wall of her house, and a man loomed over her. His knuckles were bruised and flaky, dry. She remembered that he had never put lotion on his hands, found it a feminine action. And in all honesty, he used them too often to care. Used them on her, against her.

 

 _“Papa, please stop,”_ she’d cried, her eye swelling. The tears stung the cut just beneath the vulnerable flesh of her cheekbone. _“I’m sorry.”_

_“I’ll bet you’re sorry.”_ He’d reached out, grasped her by the shoulders, and rattled her like a child’s toy, smacking her head repeatedly into the wall.

 

Natsuki took a tentative step towards Yuri, or whatever she was now, and tried for her normal gruff tone. _Something she would recognize._ “Hey, idiot! Who said you could start cosplaying in some weird basement? We have work to do up top!”

 

The witch, of course, said nothing. However, she spread her arms to each side of her body, a Christlike figure, and unleashed the coils of barbed wire that grew against her body like vines. They lashed forward, whiplike.

 

“Watch out!” Tomi cried, throwing her hands up in front of her face. Natsuki dropped her spear and spread her hands before the two of them.

 

A pink latticework barrier materialized before the two of them. The sharp coils railed against them, rendered useless until they fell back to their host.

 

 _Papa. I loved you._ And she had, hadn’t she? Hadn’t she endured years and years of torment as his punching bag? Hadn’t she taken care of him, ever since the day her mother had died? Hadn’t she, hadn’t she?

 

 _But I didn’t love him enough to go through with it anymore._ That night. That night he’d almost killed her… Monika had come to her.

 

Yuri’s witch stretched a pointed, skeletal finger at Natsuki’s shield. It curled, once. _A beckoning._

“Don’t go,” Tomi said, her voice shaking.

 

“Stay here. Stay behind the barrier.” Natsuki lifted her spear again, stepping into the witch’s line of sight. Immediately, the barbed coils came to like, and they struck at her from both sides. They bit into her flesh like poisonous vipers; she felt her skin explode into wet splotches of blood in a thousand different spots.

 

“ _Natsuki!_ ” Tomi beat her fists against the barrier, and although Natsuki could hear her, it was as though she were hearing her from outside of a dream. As though she walked through some ethereal, uninhabitable world—and Tomi existed in some harsh, unforgiving place, a place she didn’t want to return to.

 

“Yuri,” she said, falling to her knees. “I’m sorry I couldn’t keep my promise to you.”

 

The witch said nothing. Its stomach, however, began to open into a yawning red expanse of blood and flesh. Natsuki crawled forward on her hands and knees, mesmerized by that wound. It was an eye, not a pit of blood—it was a red eye, complete with eyelashes. A third eye.

 

Cuts like intricate lace raced down the witch’s bare arms. With the third eye’s opening, those cuts began to shapeshift, too, into threadlike eyeballs. They all blinked in time with the one in her center.

 

_She sees all._

Yes. She could see Natsuki as she had been, bruised and on the brink of death, sobbing in the rain. _I want Papa to stop hurting me. Forever._ Monika had rested her hand on Natsuki’s shoulder, and it had been done. He had died the next day, in what had looked to be a car accident.

 

But she knew. Natsuki knew that she had killed him.

 

 _That’s how I protect people,_ Natsuki thought, staring at those eyes as they stared back into her. _I only cause destruction._

All of this time, Natsuki thought, her skin gushing, pain like a hot fountain being poured over her body, I thought I was protecting Yuri.

 

_But she was protecting me, protecting me from what I really was. From the fool I’ve always been. And don’t I owe her something for that?_

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you,” she said, her voice echoing. Blood began to pool under her. “But, here’s the thing.” She struggled to her feet. She left the spear there, as though it were some kind of threshold between them. “I know you’re hurting right now. I know. And I want to make it better for you. You’ve been hurting for so long, haven’t you?”

 

The witch lowered its raccoon-masked face, as though it had heard _something_ —whether it was Natsuki or not, she didn’t know.

 

But she was encouraged.

 

“I promised you I would take care of you.” She staggered forward, kicking the spear even further between them. “Maybe I couldn’t do it in this life… but isn’t there always the next one?”

 

She began to laugh. It was sweet. Tomi began to cry audibly from her barrier, but Natsuki could barely hear her anymore.

 

“I want us to go together, Yuri. Will you let me take you there?” She stretched her hand toward the many-eyed witch. The spear between them began to spark, pink with frenetic energy, destructive rather than protective.

 

_Just as I am. Just as I’ve always been._

She closed her eyes, put her fists against her chest. The energy began to spread, eliminating all of the shadows between herself and the witch.

 

She thought, with force, one last time:

 

_Stay safe, Tomi. Stay strong. You’re a better woman than I am. Thank you for everything._

With open arms, Natsuki embraced the annihilating force of her own magic.

 

* * *

 

 “No… no…”

 

Monika found her like that, kneeling on the asphalt, not even crying.

 

She was just whispering to herself, over and over, face pressed into the filthy black tar.

 

“Tomi?”

 

She lowered her arms, fingers splayed.

 

The other girl turned onto her back, facing Monika, facing the sky. Her hair was tangled, dirty. Her face was swollen from crying.

 

Without saying a word, Tomi took Monika’s hand.

 

Monika couldn’t help but feel a burning satisfaction spread throughout her chest—the kind of happiness she’d been deprived of for so long that she had forgotten how it felt.

 

_Maybe this time, I will actually get what I want._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha i'm sad
> 
> anyway thank you all for reading, hopefully you're as sad as i am


	24. Just Monika

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just Monika.

Just Monika.

\-- _Doki Doki Literature Club!_

 

* * *

Despite herself, Monika had long ago begun to associate Tomi with fire: a blundering flame, hot at its source, but scrambling at its ends, reaching for something, anything tangible. A fire too hot to take hold of, too destructive to contain, and yet—it was always searching for that which would quench it.

 

Monika now knew, though, that the fire was not Tomi. Tomi was a river, ebbing and flowing with time, adjusting, adapting. Every timeline, every new person, every new day was simply something to handle as it came to her. Eventually, she would find her shore—even if it took an eternity.

 

 _I’m the fire,_ Monika thought, holding her hand over her heart. Rain battered her face, ran from her soaked bangs and into her eyes. _I’m the one who is always searching, and who will never find what I’m looking for._

She crawled forward on knees that felt broken. Glass and concrete were scattered around her. Her dress, the ombre red indistinguishable from drying and new blood, stuck to her thighs like wet paper. Monika’s white gloves were scorched.

 

_Tomi._

Monika attempted to pull herself upright, but the motion only caused her to fall forward. Her face pressed into a puddle of soiled water. It began to cloud her vision.

 

 _Maybe this is really it._ Monika allowed herself, for a moment, to close her eyes, relish the sensation of what she imagined drowning would feel like. Real drowning, not the kind of drowning she’d been experiencing for what seemed like an eternity. _Maybe I should leave her now, and just go on to where I should have ended up long ago._

Was that a scary thought? Or was it comforting? Monika felt the tension ease from her muscles. It was always the biggest question for her—what happened after? Where would she end up, once her soul had finally been extinguished? _Where hundreds of copies of Yuri’s, Natsuki’s, and Sayori’s souls are?_

A hand fluttered before her—a vision?

 

Tomi. Lit from within, golden and warm, stood before her. A sunflower skirt flamed about her knees. Tomi held a sword with an amber setting.

 

“Monika.” Her voice was soothing, like cold water on a shallow burn. “Let me help you.”

 

Monika inhaled, forgetting she was half-submerged. She began to cough. “I know you want to. I know you do.” She rolled over onto one side, her ribs threatening to cave in. “But you aren’t here. You aren’t here, and neither am I.”

 

Silence. Silence, and smoke. Monika waited for a response, even when she knew there would never be one.

 

_Neither of us can exist in this timeline. Not like this._

_Can we in any timeline, I wonder?_

Monika thought of Tomi, a summer goddess, sword of justice. She thought of her running towards her, smile splitting her face in half, hand gripping…

 

_Sayori’s._

Monika clenched her teeth, felt gravel grating in between them.

 

_I know you love Sayori. I know you do. But she will only cause you pain, my darling. Only death. And I know I can build a future… a better one… where we can both be happy. Together._

Monika rose, shakily, amongst the ruins of her dream world.

 

She let her hair fall into her face, and she smiled. It no longer felt sane to her.

 

“I’ll just… try again. And again. And again.”

 

She closed her hands over her chest, activating the green eclipse her soul gem brought forth, smothering the world like a pillow over a child’s face.

 

* * *

 

_I’m still dreaming, aren’t I?_

I sat, my face pressed against the cold glass of the window in my room. Nothing could shake me out of this feeling—this feeling like déjà vu, this feeling like purgatory.

 

_I’ve watched the last of them die._

How much longer could I go on? Things had become too gray for me, and I had never been one to fear the future.

 

_But there’s nothing here for me anymore._

_Nothing but misery._

I let the tears leak from my eyes; they exited without force, without drama. There was too much sorrow inside of me, filling me to the brim with an ocean tide of grief. Washing against my insides, rollicking against the rock faces of my being.

 

_There’s just me now, just me. Just me._

I pushed my head into my arms. Everything seemed as though it were reeling.

 

_No, not just me. It was never just me. I was never alone._

_It’s Monika._

I thought of her, the white silk bow, smile like a knife in the dark.

 

_It’s always been Monika. Just Monika._


	25. Believe Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tomi discovers Monika's reality.

“I'm sorry. I'm  _so_  sorry. You've been protecting me for a long time...and I'll never forget that. I know you're the reason that I'm the person I am today. I'm so sorry. I really want this; it's the answer I've been looking for. I swear. I promise I won't let your efforts be in vain. Believe me, Homura.”

 

\--Kaname Madoka, _Puella Magi Madoka Magica_

* * *

 

_“Please. Wake up.”_

I hear that voice, coming from somewhere—it’s an echo, I think, of something that was said long ago. Something trapped within the acoustics of the universe, resounding, playing over and over again until it is doomed to fade away.

 

I am here again. I don’t know how many times I’ve been here before. Every step I take is nostalgic, and every breath threatens to overwhelm me. The wind is hot against my skin; I can feel embers, ashes, flecks of fallen hellfire scorching my skin where they touch me. My eyes are blinded, but only momentarily; when the shadows lift, I see it.

 

 _The dreamscape._ Is it truly a dream, though, if I can feel it—so real—so tangible? The sky is gray with smoke, with storm. I lift my hands above me, as though I can grab a cloud and squeeze the water from it. My hands are bare. They feel empty, as though they should be holding something.

 

I look down. I am barefoot, too. What happened to my shoes? My feet are covered in ashes. My skirt is just my school uniform, but before it was something else. _I’m meant to be something else, aren’t I?_

I walk forward, hazy. I catch my reflection in a slice of broken glass. Tomi. Yes. That’s me. My eyes are amber, somewhat narrow. My hair is untied, brown and flying around my face with the force of the fiery gales. Soot is smeared across my left cheekbone. I kneel, touch the surface of the broken glass. It is smooth and cool. It is real.

 

_Am I the only one here?_

I rise again, my knees creaking with the effort. I observe the dreamscape: it is the city, _my city_ , torn asunder, rampaged. The smoke and black clouds swirling in the sky are tornadic, threatening. I can see some kind of red energy at its core, something being born, something wanting to escape.

 

_A witch._

I don’t know how I know this, but I do. I know it and I’ve always known it. I reach for a weapon, and I find nothing, nothing but a tattered schoolgirl skirt.

 

_What am I supposed to be doing here?_

I hear her behind me, footsteps that have haunted me for what seems now like a neverending millennia. Footsteps that always shadow mine. That echo mine. _That follow mine._

“Monika.” I know it’s her, because I _know her._ I know her presence. I always have.

 

“Tomi.” Her voice is svelte, as though the world isn’t caving in around us. I turn to face her. She is beautiful, angelic, and her green eyes are swimming with tears. “I’ve found you.”

 

“What do you mean, you’ve found me?” Something about that sentence does not ring true, but I can’t tell what it is. I touch my face, wondering, for the millionth time, if I am real, if I anything is real.

 

“I mean… every time I come back, looking for you… you aren’t here. And if you are here, then it’s too late.” Monika wrings her hands. She is a magical girl, and I know that. She has been a magical girl for longer than I have been alive. Monika is wearing a red velvet hood and an ombre skirt. “I keep coming back for you. You know? I’ve been back here so many times, doing the same things over and over again, and I keep losing you.”

 

“Explain what you mean.” I lower my head, touch my face again. It feels hot. Painful.

 

“I…” She looks away. “I have done some horrible things.”

 

“Tell me.” I step forward.

 

She swallows, visibly afraid. “Will you hate me if you know? I don’t want that to happen. I would die if that happened.”

 

“Monika. Please.” I put my head into my hands; why is it throbbing? A sword was cleaved through my skull—that’s the feeling I’m experiencing, a phantom pain.

 

“Well—I want you to understand. _I loved them once._ ” Her voice wavers. She puts the edge of one of her perfect nails into her mouth. “I never wanted to hurt them. Any of them. But inevitably… any time you got close to any of them… you _would die._ ”

 

“Them…” I closed my eyes. Natsuki, wiping frosting off of my cheek and licking it. Yuri, a sheaf of hair falling over her eyes as she smiled up at me from her book. Sayori, grabbing my hand as she pranced alongside me on our way to school. “What do you mean, I would die?”

 

“I watched it happen. Over… and over.” She begins to cry, but almost imperceptibly. “I know I’m not innocent in any of this. But loving them only got you hurt. And I… I got so tired of seeing it, Tomi. I started trying to help you a long time ago. And I got to know you. And I… I…” Monika steps closer to me, her eyes closed. “I fell in love with you!”

 

 _That’s right._ I remember. Monika shyly handing me her poem, and at the bottom, circled in pink, a note: _i love you._ Monika holding me as I cried. Why is that one so familiar? Monika lurking. Monika’s presence, always behind me.

 

“And… I had these whispers in my head…” Monika stutters, shaken by my silence. “I think I drove myself mad, you know? I drove myself crazy. I hated them… I started hating them… and somehow… I wished I could turn back the clock and _fix it._ One day, something approached me, but I don’t know if it was real or not. It asked me how much I wanted it… and I said… enough to die for.”

 

_Oh, Monika._

 

She hangs her head. “But I did it for you, see? And with those powers, I could go back… but nothing was working. So I started thinking… if the other girls become like me… destined to die some horrible fate… they couldn’t love you into madness. My plan has backfired too many times, though. I always thought: would it be better for them to die and you to remain, human and vulnerable, for me to save you? Or could the two of us be a magical girl duo… powerful enough to take the world. Powerful enough to destroy it and create a new one, if we had to…” She begins to sob. “I don’t know. I don’t know if there’s a right answer. I keep finding you and losing you.”

 

I fall to my knees, remembering. _Yes._ I _am_ a magical girl. Somewhere, in some life, I am her—that golden-skirted hero, that sword-wielding girl. I have died here, in the clutches of witches. I have died by knife, by bite wounds, by decapitation. I have succumbed to my own darkness, my own madness, and become a demon. I grab handfuls of hair.

 

“What is this thing above us?”

 

Monika laughs, her voice shaking. “That’s the end of this universe. That’s what happens when I have broken too many timelines. Destroyed too many lives. I have no choice, but to destroy this world… and create a new one. Where we can be together.”

 

I look up at her. She is crying openly now, laughing even as tears stream down her pale face. _Monika._ I remember, too clearly, the girl she was—oh. And I remember loving her. _I remember it._

_“Monika… do you think people like us get happy endings?”_

Water. Cold water. I’m submerged in it, and she’s leaning over me. Her blood, my blood, it mixes together, runs red despite the rain. She is holding my head in her lap. Her hair kisses my lips, soft and flowery. I want to kiss _her_. I want to pretend like I’m not dying.

 

_“No.” Monika leans close to me. Her breath is warm. “But people like you do.”_

My eyes begin to cloud with my pain. _Even then… she did. She did this all for me._

“Monika.” I rise, and I grab her around her waist. I bring her close to me. Everything has become clear now—crystal clear. My frightened lover. My terrified friend. She succumbed to her jealousy, she found comfort in her delusions, and she became otherworldly, terrific. She became a magical girl out of desire. She manifested herself into a being with too much power—and it was all her own doing. How could she not feel like a god among men?

 

In a sense… was she not?

She hiccups, clings to me like a desperate child.

 

“I know you feel guilty. I know you still love them. Don’t you?”

 

“Y-yes!” She began to cry harder. “God. What have I done.”

 

“You’ve done horrible things.” I kiss the top of her head, my eyes closed. “But… you have a chance at a happy ending, Monika. You’ve just missed it, because you’ve been looking all this time in the wrong places.”

 

Monika stiffens in my arms. “What do you mean, Tomi? I am creating my own happy ending. That’s what I have been working towards… this timeline, I’ve succeeded.” I can hear her smile in her voice. “I know what I have to do.”

 

“This isn’t you, Monika.” I lower my chin so that it rests on the top of her head. The scent of her tickles my senses. Nostalgia rocks me—but is it nostalgia if it is still happening, concurrently, in every dimension possible? “I’ve met you, so many times. I’ve loved you. And I would never love someone who is inside what you think you have become.”

 

Monika pulls away from me.

 

“What are you saying?”

 

“I’m saying that you’ve become this way for only one reason.” I can feel myself smile. I place my hand over my heart, and I feel it—that magic again. That rush of golden energy. _It’s who I’m meant to be after all._ “And it’s because of me. My existence is the flaw here—not yours. Not Sayori’s, or Natsuki’s, or Yuri’s.”

 

“N-no! That isn’t true at all! I… can’t live without you,” Monika says, stumbling over her words. She is so afraid, so afraid of what is coming. I feel so much for her in this moment—so much love, folded over and over again from countless reunifications and countless declarations.

 

_I love her, and that’s why I have to let her live a life where she can be herself again. Free from demons. Free from those insidious voices in her head. Free from a world where her love has driven her to murder._

“I love you more than I’ll ever love myself. I love Sayori, and Yuri, and Natsuki. I love you all and I know there is hope here. If there wasn’t—well, I would never do this. Don’t you believe me, Monika? Don’t you trust me?”

 

She stares at me, horror dawning on her face. “You can’t,” she says. “You can’t do this. If you do, everything I’ve done will be for nothing.”

 

“No.” I kiss her, softly, on the lips. Her sobs shake her as I do. “Everything you’ve done has led to this, and that’s why it’s meant to be.”

 

I turn away from her, and I watch that dimensional cloud grow stronger. _Yes, she has really intended to destroy this world for one we can be together in. But would even that make her happy?_

_The greatest gift I can give Monika is her sanity. Her normality. Her life. Her friends. Her ability to live again, without jealousy and voices and dark magic._

I put my hands over my heart. “Monika. Grant me this wish.”

 

“Tomi.” She cries, loudly. “Tomi, no. I can’t do it all over. I can’t do it without you.”

 

“You are so strong, Monika.” I turn away from her. I can’t look at her anymore. My heart will break too. “Let me do this. For everyone. All of us.”

 

She waits, waits, then quietly says, “What is your wish?”

 

I say, smiling genuinely, “I wish to end the suffering of magical girls. I wish to eliminate the witches, the voices, the evil energy—and let them have the happy endings they deserve. That people like _you_ deserve.”

 

“But—if you do that—”

 

I turn to her, and I kneel before her. Our hands meet again, for what I feel may be the final time.

 

“I know.”

 

Her eyes meet mine. Broken eyes, sad, distorted, insane. The eyes of a girl who has been through hell. The eyes of a girl who I love and who I know deserves so much more.

 

“Do it for us. For them.” I hesitate, then I add, “For me.”

 

And I kiss her hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we'll see how the reception to this chapter is.
> 
> i made myself sad writing it because episode 12 of madoka is........ i cry everytime.
> 
> thanks to everyone. it's not over yet, but it's close.


	26. Goodbye, Literature Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for being a part of my Literature Club!

* * *

“This is my final goodbye to the Literature Club.

 

I finally understand. The Literature Club is truly a place where no happiness can be found. To the very end, it continued to expose innocent minds to a horrific reality – a reality that our world is not designed to comprehend. I can’t let any of my friends undergo that same hellish epiphany.

 

For the time it lasted, I want to thank you. For making all of my dreams come true. For being a friend to all of the club members.

 

And, most of all, thank you for being a part of my Literature Club!

 

With everlasting love,

Monika”

 

_\--Doki Doki Literature Club!_

 

* * *

_I can do this._

It’s here that I think—how many hours have I spent, here in this place, crying with Monika, dying? It’s here that I think I finally have a purpose in my life. A purpose besides sitting on the sidelines, watching others succeed. Watching others do great things. _Watching others die._

Monika wants to deny me, but that is not the nature of her magic. She has to grant me my wish—and I don’t know how I know that, but somehow _I do_. She has granted me countless wishes, always hoping for one that would be my salvation.

 

I feel a crushing weight, looking into her eyes. _Monika._ She tried everything to keep her alive, keep me with her, and now—her wish would seal my fate for eternity.

 

And yet… why does this feel exactly as it should?

 

Why does this feel like I was born to take this duty on, to spread hope to the girls who have suffered?

 

My body is changing, my corporal form becoming ethereal. Something metaphysical. I’m separating even as my thoughts race—something about my soul is stretching away from my body. Monika only watches me, stunned with her grief, with her lack of understanding.

 

And that’s when I see the world before me changing. Within moments, I’m in a room, a table set with teacups in front of me. Porcelain. There are tiny plates, decorative cupcakes adorning their surfaces. Pink frosting, white sprinkles.

 

 _Oh._ Yuri and Natsuki are kneeling across from me, as I knew them. Yuri is wearing a thick, cream-colored sweater. Her eyes glow softly, and her smile is sane, reserved. Her violet hair falls to her breasts, her waist. She looks as she did—human, beautiful. Natsuki sits beside her, her smirk cutting across her face. Her legs are tucked beneath her pink tulle skirt.

 

“You made it,” Yuri says, voice warm. “You know what will happen if you do this, right?”

 

“I think so.” My voice comes from somewhere inside me, and I do not know if they can even hear it at first. But they both nod, together, as I say it.

 

“You’re braver than I gave you credit for,” Natsuki said. “Who could ever have thought that a coward like _you_ would be the one to save us all?” Her teasing lilt is musical. She reclines back on her hands, pink pigtails fluttering gently against the tops of her cheekbones.

 

“I know. Isn’t that funny?” Something about it _is_ funny—in a way I never would be able to consider outside of this moment. Despite my memories of these girls—my heart is warm. As I look into Yuri’s eyes, I see manifestations of the girl she has been, the girl she will be: shy, brooding, isolated. I see a powerful magical girl, blades unsheathed. I see a witch in a bleeding raccoon’s mask. I see a girl who is hurting, perpetually hurting, and who needs a salve for her wounds.

 

As I think this, I see Natsuki reach for Yuri’s hand. _Natsuki_. In every time line, she has fallen, too—a victim of her own aggression, her own determination to prove herself. She has sacrificed her body, her sanity, for the well-being of others, hoping to make herself feel worthy in the end. And I wonder, looking at the two of them, if they are meant to be here, in this warm, welcoming afterlife, coupled and safe.

 

Yuri blushes, but when she looks at Natsuki, I feel it: the love, the purity. “You are doing so much for us,” Yuri whispers. Natsuki nods, unable to look away from Yuri. “You are giving us so much, and you always have.”

 

“You deserve it.” I am drowning in my love for them, in my desire to see them happy. All at once, everything shifts; they fall away from me like crumpled pieces of construction paper, and I am alone again, a bright light in a void of spatial darkness.

 

_Is this is? Is this where I end up after all?_

 

“No,” comes a small voice, almost shy in its glee.

 

It’s her—it’s Sayori. She is wearing what I remember her in most—her too-large pink t-shirt, her pale blue shorts. Her hair is perfectly mussed, her red ribbon askew. She looks at me with tear-filled blue eyes. I want to pull her to my chest, want to let her cry like I know she needs to.

 

“Oh,” I say, involuntarily. “Oh, Sayori.”

 

“I know.” She sniffles, wiped her eyes with an awkward hand. “I messed it all up, didn’t I?” But that isn’t how I feel at all. I can see her, too, in these timelines Monika has created: trapped in her own head, afraid to reach out and hurt another person in the process. My heart bleeds, seeps: I can see her. Crouched in the shadows of her mind, and inside of her, the witch lurks, begging to be freed.

 

 _Sayori never had a chance. Not in any of these timelines._ And although this hurts me, I know now that her destiny lies elsewhere. I reach for her hand, and although I can feel myself shifting between realities and levels of physicality, she manages to grasp it.

 

“I love you,” Sayori says, and her voice is choked. “I know what you’ve done, and I love you. I want to help you.”

 

“You will,” I say, my warmth threatening to overwhelm me. “You always have been my better half, and you still are.”

 

“But… what about the others?” Sayori looks away from me, seeming threatened.

 

“I have a plan for all of you, Sayori.” It hurts me again. That bittersweetness. I become overwhelmed when I consider my fate, alone, banished to the edges of this world—merely an idea, a spiritual presence that will never be tangible again. But I know— _it is my duty._ And somehow that is stronger than every emotion which possesses me. “I know there is a world where you can all be happy, and I will make that world. You will help me do that—won’t you?”

 

“Of course,” Sayori says, but she sounds so sad, too—she knows, knows what will become of me. “And Monika…”

 

_Yes._

 

Monika.

 

I put my hands over my heart. “Let me take care of it.”

 

She nods, and as she does, she is stripped away from me, and again I am left in a spatial expanse of nothingness. Stars blink wearily at me from twenty thousand dimensions. I feel an inescapable loneliness, here—but it is relieved, momentarily, when I hear her behind me.

 

_“Tomi!”_

I turn toward her. My body has changed, and I can feel it now—there is a strange, inhumane power flowering through my limbs, roots ingrained in the cosmos. I have been stripped of my human self; I can see, for the first time, what I truly am and what I truly appear to be. My hair is flowing, long, around my shoulders. I am nude, my breasts covered by chocolate hair tied into golden ribbons. And she—Monika—is there, seeing me as I am, stunned into awe.

 

I want to embrace her. Monika has been stripped as well, and her breasts are just barely covered by her hair. Her white ribbon is coming loose. I want to tie it for her, I want to take it. I want, I want, I want, and soon, I know, this will cease: because the being I am becoming will no longer know these human desires.

 

“Tomi, I thought I’d lost you.” Her eyes are streaming steadily. I go to her, pull her close to me. Our breasts touch, electric. Our skin melds, warm and staticky. Everything is different now, and I struggle not to regret this.

 

“Never,” I say, and it’s true. I kiss the top of her head. “I will never leave you. I just won’t be there next to you as I was anymore. I’ll be the one helping you from here, guiding you. Making sure you can be happy.”

 

“How can I be happy without you?” Her tears wet my chest. “I don’t think I can do this. I—I don’t think it’s worth living if… if I can’t have a chance of being with you. I’ve tried so many times, Tomi. I’ve done so many horrible things. Hurt so many people I love. And now… it was for nothing. And I’m the person I am—evil.”

 

“You are not evil.” I pull her closer. “Monika.”

 

But I see her, just as I saw the others. The transfer student. The president of the literature club. Trying, trying to compete. Loving a girl who seemed oblivious to her affections. And when she did return them—well—

 

I let her sob into my arms.

 

“Monika, you have so much potential. If I didn’t believe in you, I would never do this. Don’t you see that?”

 

“What about _your_ life?”

 

I think—my life, my pitiful life, with distant parents, with my dead best friend, knowing the extent of my cowardice. My ethereal soul runs from that reality, just as it should. _It’s not who I can be—this is who I can and should be._

“You are destined for better. _You are a magical girl._ You, Sayori, Yuri and Natsuki—you all have done great things, and I want you to continue doing them.”

 

“I… I can’t…”

 

I pull the golden ribbon from one of my pigtails. I place it into her hands—it is a pact between us, cool and silken. She clutches it, trembling.

 

“Don’t forget me, Monika. I will never forget you.”

 

“No—no, please, don’t leave me,” she cries, but I know it’s time.

 

The universe won’t rewrite itself—will it?

 

And with that, I separate from her. I can see her crying, in spirit form, on earth, kneeling in puddles of concrete-dirtied water.

 

 _The end of the world comes with love, even still,_ I think; things begin to meld, things begin to blacken. My thoughts are becoming oblique. _But instead of her love destroying it, my love is recreating it anew._

And that’s all I can do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> almost there ;;


	27. When Did I Become a Witch?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> gott ist tot!

* * *

_It's true... I'm not a magical girl anymore. How could this happen? How? Why? Why would I end up as this? When did it even happen? When did I become a witch?!_

— **Homura Akemi**

* * *

 

_She’s gone._

That’s all Monika could think, kneeling there in the broken remains of a world she had created and recreated. Concrete slabs fell away from where she sat, and the sky, in all of its terrible gray anger, began to tear away like fabric ripping. Everything was gone, going where _she_ was—and all Monika wanted to do was go with it.

 

_Even if it ends up killing me, it would be worth it._

 

She held her hands up, still clutching that golden silk ribbon. The only evidence she had ever existed, besides what memories lurked inside of Monika. _What am I supposed to do with this?_

She looked down at herself, becoming increasingly disturbed by what she saw. She was still a magical girl, Red Riding Hood-style costume sullied from combat. Her semi-automatic rifle lay a few feet away, as if it had been kicked. When she looked up at the sky again, it was blank—the black rift had disappeared, left blankness in its place.

 

The world had been put back together. Monika stood and faltered slightly. The buildings had been rebuilt. She saw no corpses, no devastation, no fires. It was just the city she belonged to, the city she had defended over and over and over and over—

 

“Monika!”

 

She stiffened. That voice. It was—

 

“Moni!”

 

Monika turned, terrified. Sayori. She, too, was in costume—her face had a grayish smudge on the cheek where it looked like she’d wiped ash away. Her hair was windblown, but her winged wrists and ankles gave her the airy sylph appearance she possessed in magical girl form. Sayori smiled, a genuine smile. Monika’s skin crawled.

 

“Are you hurt?”

 

“No,” Monika managed, trying to steady herself. “What… what is going on?”

 

“The witch,” Sayori explained. “It was such a big witch… and Natsuki and Yuri needed our help. But we did it! We beat her.” She sounded proud, and her face glowed, furthering her angelic stature.

 

Monika put a gloved hand to her face. Her fingers shook. _I killed you,_ she thought, looking at Sayori. _I turned you into a sad wreck of a creature and now look at you… pretending as though I never did that. Pretending like we are friends. Like we… like we have always been friends._

 

Monika began to cry, but she made no sounds. It was just the ever-falling tears that gave her away, steaming from her eyes. _I’ve always been a monster, Tomi. I’ve always been a witch._

 

“Monika?” Sayori reached for her hand, but Monika pulled away. “What’s going on? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

 

“Stop,” Monika said, her anger flashing like an unsheathed blade. “Stop!”

 

“Hey!” She stiffened again. The clicking of Natsuki’s heels on the concrete gave her more flashbacks, more unwanted memories. And Yuri, blades in hand, breathing only slightly harder than an average human would after a run on the treadmill.

 

“You guys okay? I’m glad we finally sent that bitch packing.” Natsuki grinned. Her teeth appeared unnaturally sharp and carnivorous to Monika.

 

“Not exactly the right way to talk about it,” Yuri advised, exasperated. “But I’m glad we managed to defeat her.”

 

_Who are these people? Who am I?_

Monika turned from them, eyes trained on the sky. _Tomi. You wanted to save me—but I can’t be here without you._

“Monika?” Yuri’s soft voice sounded feathered with fear. “Your soul gem—”

 

“Soul gem.” Monika laughed to herself. “What a joke. That’s the thing I hate about you people… you’re always telling jokes, but they are never funny.”

 

“What?” Natsuki appeared puzzled. “Monika, what are you talking about?”

 

“Soul gem… this thing is a ticking time bomb.” She began to laugh. The gem in her chest had grayed and withered. The golden ribbon in her clenched hand snaked around her wrist like a bandage. “I was never a magical girl. If I had been, would I not have used my powers for good? But I was always like this. My powers came from jealousy and hatred… so have I not been a witch from the start?” She fell to her knees, suddenly overcome with emotion.

 

_It’s true, isn’t it?_

_Oh, my god._

_I was born from misery. I have caused others only misery._

_I am a witch._

“Monika!”

 

Sayori ran to her, but in Monika’s twisted head, she began to see the girl for who she really was. A shadowy figure, hiding from the world, happy thoughts flicking around in her head like suffocating fireflies.

 

Yuri, her wrists running like rivers with scarlet water. Her pain behind the raccoon mask. Her third eye open.

 

Monika put her head in her hands. _Oh, god. Make it stop._

 

Natsuki strode forward and grabbed at the front of Monika’s cape, roughly lifting her toward her. “Stop acting like this!”

 

Monika’s head rolled back. Natsuki’s face had been replaced by horrifying black scribbles.

 

“Has any of this ever been real?” Her voice seemed to echo, echo, echo…

 

…through the halls of a lengthy labyrinth.

 

She fell onto her side. Natsuki’s head snapped to the side. Her scribbled face became menacing. “Isn’t this what you always wanted, Monika?”

 

“Was it worth it, Monika?” Yuri’s pupils were like shards of glass. Her smile was volatile, her wrists dripped blood. “Was it worth it in the end?”

 

“Do you actually regret anything you’ve done, Monika?” Sayori’s face was dark and bloated with death; the noose draped around her neck had left tight grip marks. “Do you actually feel bad—or do you simply think Tomi will love you if you pretend to apologize?”

 

“I do feel bad… I do regret it… I do!” Monika cowered away from them, these girls, dancing monstrosities. “I never wanted to hurt anyone. No matter what you say…”

 

“But how could we believe something like that when you said it yourself…” Yuri got in Monika’s face, her expression sickeningly chaotic. “You’ve _always_ been a witch!”

 

 _This is not a reborn world at all,_ Monika realized as her victims—her friends—circled her like hyenas around a sun-rotten carcass. _This is my labyrinth. My hell._

 

The ribbon tightened around her wrists, pulled them behind her like handcuffs. _In my hell, I lose everything—everything I worked toward. I lose Tomi. And I’m confronted with what I’ve done. Well—doesn’t that make sense?_

 

“I guess I can’t pretend to be surprised,” she said, softly. “I can’t pretend to be anything anymore. This has been inside me all of this time, huh… but what was the trigger? What was it?”

 

Sayori knelt beside her. Her face was horrific, gray and bloated, her blue eyes glazed over but bulging from their sockets… but Monika knew better than to recoil. _I can’t show my fear._ “You couldn’t have Tomi, so you decided this world wasn’t worth living in anymore. Once she disappeared… you lost your will to fight. Even though she gave her own life up to help you…”

 

Monika’s eyes burned. “No. I… wanted to do better for her. I did.”

 

“It’s too late now,” Natsuki giggled. “This is everything you have now, and everything you deserve.”

 

“So get comfortable, Monika,” Yuri hissed. “Get comfortable with your new friends.”

 

_Tomi. I’m sorry._


	28. Like playing a KNIFE on a BREATHING RIBCAGE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SINE COSINE TANGENT

The colors, they won't  
Bright, bea t ful c l rs  
Flash ng, exp nd ng, piercing  
Red, green, blue  
An ndless  
CACOPHONY  
Of meaningless  
noise

The noise, it won't STOP.  
Viol nt, grating w vef rms  
Sq e king, screech ng, piercing  
SINE, COSINE, TANGENT  
Like play ng a ch lkboard on a t rntable  
Like playing a KNIFE on a BREATHING RIBCAGE  
n ndl ss  
p m  
Of m n ngl ss

Delete Her

\-- "Holy in the Wall Part 2"  
Monika, Act II, Day III -- Doki Doki Literature Club!

 

* * *

Time did not exist inside of Monika's labyrinth. The only thing that existed was the pain--first a dull ache, buried inside of her, a core of rotten thoughts that had replaced her soul gem. Black, smoking. This ache was a burning coal, a coal she could not help but to poke until it began to flame again.

 

Then the ache turned into a rage--a rage that Monika could no longer contain. Rage against Sayori, Yuri, Natsuki. Rage against the object of her obsession--her love--Tomi. Rage, mostly, against herself, and the wicked creature she was.

 

Monika's witch form was simply herself, but pieces of her began to go missing. The labyrinth was black, dark, and seemingly vacant. She was alone--but only in her head. The dolls danced around her, the dead who haunted her purgatory.

 

Sayori was the worst, in her opinion, because she had been the first of Monika's victims. Monika had gained her powers in an attempt to overcome her loneliness--and Sayori had been the one who had initially stood in her way. Sayori had been killed over and over again, reset by Monika's magic, and each time she died differently.

 

Sometimes she became a witch. Sometimes she killed herself before it could happen. One time, Monika had stabbed her through her soul gem, shoving a knife into her hand and pinning her to a wall. Tomi had seen. Monika, frantic, had reset.

 

Monika never forgot the look on Tomi's face when she saw Monika murder Sayori in cold blood. That look of terror, that betrayal--the loss. Even as she advanced through her muddled timelines, Monika kept that look with her. Every time Sayori lost her life, Monika held Tomi and felt her heart harden.

 

And Sayori was the worst of Monika's minions. The tormentor. Sometimes, she appeared as the witch, Libatina, the suicide witch, black and shadowy, head full of dying happy thoughts. Sometimes she appeared with a bleeding hand. Sometimes a strangled, dark face. But no matter how she appeared before Monika, she ripped into her as though the two of them were in the ninth circle of hell.

 

"I bet Tomi is happy her sacrifice was for nothing," the beast hissed; the fireflies bumped around, into the glass surface. Monika could almost hear them whispering happy thoughts happy thoughts. "How could you have ever loved her like I could? Even as a magical girl, I was closer to human than you."

 

Monika closed her eyes. Sayori--Libatina--disappeared. She was replaced with Yuri, a crazed expression on her face. Her eyes were slits. She shifted forms--bleeding, raccoon mask, her third eye opening into a yawning chasm in her chest. The witch form of Yuri--Markovia, the seeing witch.

 

"You thought driving me insane would get you the girl you wanted," the beast said mockingly. "Turns out, you failed even at that."

 

I know.

 

"And what do you think of us now, Monika? Aren't we all the greatest of friends?" Another voice, high-pitched. Natsuki, but a witch, one that had not appeared often in Monika's memories. Amy, the spider witch, her face scribbles and her neck snapped, but with eight furry legs and a cupcake crown.

 

My friends. They were my friends, weren't they?

 

Monika could not remember in this place. All she remembered was that she deserved to be here. She deserved it.

 

And Tomi--somewhere out there, splendid in her golden silk and her butterfly wings, could not save her here. Could not reach her.

 

I should have killed us both when I had the chance, Monika thought. We could have died alongside one another.

 

"Always back to killing," Libatina mocked. "Is that all you can do? Kill and runaway from your problems by resetting this game?"

 

"Game." Monika spoke, finally, her voice ragged with pain. "I wish it was a game. But this has been real, every time, for all three of you. For all five of us, really."

 

"Oh, we know," Markovia said. "We know."

 

But we forgive you, came a tiny voice, hollow, echoy. We forgive you for what you've done.

 

Sayori? Not Libatina--not the dead Sayori haunting her--but...

 

We want you to be happy, too, Yuri said. The true Yuri.

 

I cannot see them, Monika thought desperately. I can't see them because my eyes have stopped working.

 

It's okay, Natsuki said. Natsuki! Her voice was kind, uncharacteristically so. We're here to help you now.

 

And that's when Monika felt something tremble beneath her. A blade, cold against her wrists, slashed the ribbon into shreds. She tumbled forward, down, down into the eternity of the labyrinth, her vision stolen from her.

 

But she could hear them, hear these voices speaking to her--and she could hear the sounds of battle around her. Yuri and Natsuki, fighting back to back; Sayori, shooting her witch form with her glowing arrows; and...

 

Tomi.

 

"We came for you," Tomi whispered. "This is the end, but it's the good end."

 

Monika felt a hand on her shoulder. There seemed to be ground beneath her.

 

"Tomi," she said, sobbing. "Oh, my god. I don't deserve to be saved."

 

"Enough," she whispered, her lips tickling Monika's face. "It's time to rest now."

 

Rest, Monika thought.

 

But what if I'm not ready to rest? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is close to the end i promise;;
> 
> thanks for bearing with me, y'all are the best <3


End file.
